Before They Became Themselves
by QueXseraXsera
Summary: This is a Cor/Aravis story told in vinettes as a response to a 100 words challenge I ran across. How Aravis learned to surrender her pride and Cor learned how to understand Aravis. Simple prompts, but great story!
1. Beginning

**Author's Note: Okay so I am in a funk with Aravis and Cor, meaning that I'm finding it hard to develop their characters. So... I decided to mess with them in another story! I'vbe had this vinette idea for a while, but I never knew what fandom I wanted to put it in. So with a last burst of Thanksgiving energy, here is the first chapter to the prompt, Beginning.**

**Chapter 1: Beginning**

Aravis knew that above all things that this was a stupid partnership. After all she _already_ had a foolproof plan. So there. She mentally waved away any useless fishermen's sons that happened to come in her way and completely disregard her perfect plan. Aravis was used to things going her way. She was born, after all, with a legion of servants whose job was to make sure of just that. Shasta, however, had totally come in and wrecked everything. She watched the low dying glow of the embers of the fire. No one was awake out of their little party but her. To her side she saw the dappled flanks of the horses illuminated by the warm light of the embers and the cool light of the stars above.

"This is a horrible idea," she said to noone in particular. She could take the sensible war-horse Bree, but _Shasta_. By Tash, the boy was an unpracticed blithering commoner fit more to be a bumbling servant than a partner in her escape. Okay, so it was his escape, too. But, Aravis tried to think of that as little as possible.

"No it's not," said a sleepy voice by Bree's side. Apparently Shasta wasn't as immersed in sleep as she thought.

"You don't even know what I'm talking about," she said a roll of her eyes. Shasta chuckled. The soft sound seemed magnified by the darkness around them.

"It doesn't take a genius to know that you hate this plan." He leaned on his elbow and stared at her. "Obviously you think I'm beneath you."

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

"I'm a Tarkheena, Shasta. That means something here. How am I supposed to identify with some nobody? Oh sorry, I forgot. You're the son of a fisherman." Aravis pronounced the last word with great distaste, almost as if she had really smelled the rank odor of Arsheesh's hut. Shasta looked at her as if he wasn't sure he could ever understand her unkindness.

"I'm not really his son, you know. Besides we're both running to the same place, even if we're not running _from_ the same place. Isn't that enough?" It was for him to invite himself into their company. As, for Aravis reconsidering her initial first impression, that was little more than impossible. That would be unlearning everything she had been taught since birth, and she wasn't going to start that now.

"So why are you really going to the north? What's in it for you?"

"I've always wondered about it, the north. And now it's the key to my family. I'm from there I know I am. It's not just my skin; it's a feeling that I have."

"Oh I see. So now you're psychic."

"Okay if my reason is so stupid why don't you tell your _"real_ reason" for escape?" Cor asked mimicking Aravis's haughty tones.

"Obviously you wouldn't understand. I mean it's not as if you know anything about my life."

"Try me. I know more than you think." Cor's tone held a challenge in it that unnerved Aravis. She could never back down from a challenge.

"Alright. Well as a Tarkheena I have a sense of honor and duty. That marriage proposal was my duty and I didn't fulfill it. More importantly, my father, the most important member of my household practically commanded me to it. No good ever comes of disobedience. I mean, haven't you ever heard of the story of why Calormenes say the phrase 'to hear is to obey'?"

"Of couse. Arsheesh told it to me a million times so I would attend to my chores better. Tash created the universe full of men and beasts. Soon, however, he noticed the men were fighting with each other without cause. Now Tash, as a deity fond of war, approved of fighting in general, but not of fighting with a lack of a purpose. First he placed his son, the Tisroc, on the highest seat of the world so he would rule over all. Next, Tash created the Tisroc's advisors and army so that they would serve the Tisroc in his diplomacy and strengthen him in his politics. Tash also created Tarkaans and Tarkheenas to give the Tisroc high ranking, loyal followers. Then after creating palace people, Tash decided to give the Tisroc people to rule over. So he created merchants and tradesman and other such people. Finally Tash decided to create beggars and men who were in charge of cleaning up after the masses so they would be the foundation of the status symbol and to give the merchants and tradesmen a sense of importance."

"But you forgot the last part," Aravis chimed in. "Tash then brings all the men before him and says that to them 'There is very little difference between you. All I have done is create order to stop your senseless brawls. Now that every man has his place this fighting should cease. But I remind you that the only thing that seperates a Tarkhaan from a beggar is-"

"The honor and glory bestowed by Tash" Shasta recited the line in the dull tone one gets from memorizing something that has been repeated to them over and over again. "But what does honor have to do with your escape?"

"There was no future for me in Calormene if I didn't marry Ahosta," Aravis said with a slight shudder. "My father would have disowned me." Aravis said this with her spine stiff, sitting straight up and her legs folded in typical Calormene style. Only her face betrayed the fear of a twelve year old girl at losing her family. "I'd rather run away"

"That sounds pretty bad," said Shasta looking at Aravis for a moment and then staring at the stars. They seemed to take up the whole of the inky black sky. "At least I didn't know my family so I didn't have them to lose. But still. It's hard leaving your life. None of us knows what we'll find in the North." For a while Shasta and Aravis sat there in silence, starting at the stars. The immense sense of wonder at beholding the long stretch of night sky rendered them speechless.

"Well, I can think of one thing," Aravis said in a soft tone that she had only now chosen to speak to Shasta in. "Home." She didn't like how small her voice had suddenly become, how constricted her throat was.

"Yeah," Shasta echoed mildly wondering at that simple word. And then he continued in a more realistic tone. "If we're lucky." One corner of Aravis's mouth pushed upward as a small smile unfurled across her face. He had said "we". The word had a nice ring to it, not so much concerning his value as a partner just the fact of seeking her fortune with another person—_any_ other person. The wide, wide world was easier to face when you had another person to face it with. Even if that person was a firsherman's foster son.

"So, Tarkheena, what are your big plans for the North?" Shasta asked his tone light and teasing. "I think we can check marriage off the list. A legion of servants at your every beck and call?" Aravis rolled her eyes at him and resumed her haughty tone, although this time it was affected.

"Starting a new a new life with only one legion of servants? I shall need two legions at the very least. One to carry my silks and one all the jewels fit for one of my station."

"You don't ask for much do you?" Shasta said "I would have asked for at least three myself."

"Well what about you fish boy? A nice hut by the river?" Aravis's tone held only a hint of malice at these words; nothing could fully change her mind about their difference in stations after all.

"Oh no. I was thinking more about a palace. It would be greater even than the Tisroc's, but there would be no slaves, just servants happy to work there."

"Ah, so you want your honor and glory bestowed by Tash just as much as the rest of us."

"Of course, I'd have to be a fool not to!" Shasta said with a pointed glance in her direction

"Then maybe you should marry Ahosta."

"Ah. Well then, maybe I should just stick to bestowing my own honor and glory."

"That's not the way it works," objected Aravis, the smile fading slightly from her voice. "We as humans can't bestow our own honor."

"No, think about it. A man makes a prince, not the other way around." Slowly, albeit reluctantly, Aravis was starting to see a grain of truth in Shasta's words.

"But you've never had a title. I've spent my whole life trying to live up to mine."

"Well stop trying. Here we are escaping from everything we've ever known. It's time to take your fate into your own hands." The chatter died after that, the weight of Shasta's words lying on them both. There was a certain emptiness that came along with seeking a new life, Aravis thought. An emptiness she didn't quite want to face. So instead of facing it she looked at the stars. Each of them created their own brilliance, lighting up the darkness around them. It couldn't be possible for people to do that all by themselves, could it? Aravis knew that if she wasn't a Tarkheena she'd be like every other beggar's brat or common person that she saw running in front of the litters of her and her friends. Her status was a safety blanket, a parachute, something that fed her and clothed her and got her the best of everything. Unril one day it imprisoned her.

"And now I can never go back," Aravis murmured aloud to the darkness.

"It's your escape," Shasta answered sleepily. How did he always manage to do that? Did he advise people in sleep as well as in his waking hours? More likely, he was one of those annoyingly light sleepers. Aravis tossed and turned in the grass after this realization, just to annoy him.

"Our escape," Aravis corrected sounding condescending even in a tone above a whisper, her voice muffled by the light stupor of sleep. Aravis wouldn't have been able to see it with her eyes closed, but a wide grin slowly spread out across Shasta's face. Shasta savored in the fact that he had officially won her consent to the journey. It may have been a small victory, but for now it would do. In matters concerning Aravis, Shasta was willing to take what he could get.


	2. Love

Author's Note: This chapter is short but sweet. Mainly it's short because I finally have a plan for these prompts and I'm rushing to get them out to you guys! So enjoy the second prompt, Love. Oh and btw, sorry about the screwy formatting, I can't quite get 's document to center justify the text or to make it bold. I know how to, but it's being a little tempermental...

Chapter 2: Love

Shasta had never really had a family. I mean he had a man who he had thought was his father. But that didn't turn out so well, what with the selling Shasta into slavery bit and all. Shasta knew that the North had called to him in more ways than one. And so it had. For now, true as truth, Shasta was Cor. And Cor had a father, brothers, and a whole castle full of friends.

"Shasta, father wants us down for dinner," Corin said coming into Cor's doorway.

"Sure," Cor said. " One second" And the biggest surprise of all: Cor was a prince and Aravis as common as he used to be. Except now, King Lune had invited her to the castle to be a lady of the court. Whenever Cor thought about Aravis he felt slightly guilty. He had come to Archenland and found what she had left behind. He had found family and a title and all she had gotten was a home out of the deal. It was what they had both wanted at the beginning, but the inequality of the deal he knew must still sting, especially to someone like Aravis. She was, after all, used to better things. However, Aravis was not here now. King Lune had wanted one day to reunite with his family before the real celebration began with the Narnians and all who had helped in the battle.

Cor was happy of the intimacy of the smaller gathering. Though he had seen King Lune, Corin, and the rest of his brothers he was still not fully acquainted with them. He rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"Ah Cor, come sit by me," King Lune said ushering Cor to a chair on the right side of King Lune. King Lune looked out at Cor's new brothers as they began to file in from their various pursuits. "The family together at last. This is something I'd hoped for quite some time now." King Lune turned to look at Cor with tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes as he ruffled Cor's dirty blond locks.

"I'm glad to be home, Father," Cor said, testing out the word on his new father. It felt right in his mouth. "You see, back in Calormene my foster father was a fisherman."

"Ah, what's this? You have a story to tell I see. Gather round everyone, Cor's telling about his time in Calormene with a fisherman."

"I thought he was my father," Cor said starting to smile. And he developed his story in all the right ways, adding the funny bits where he would always ask about the North and Arsheesh would box his ears. What's more, Cor even added an impression of Arsheesh reciting proverbs, which happened to sound like an old man who was hard of hearing. His new family laughed at that. In fact, they laughed at pretty much everything Cor said. And for the first time in his life, he didn't have to wheedle his way into someone's good graces. He never had to convince King Lune or his brothers to like him; they just did. It was the conspiratorial twinkle in his father's eye when he ruffled Cor's hair and the way Corrin or Darrin or any other of his brothers would tease him about Aravis. Cor's grin took up half his face and never left it until he relaxed into sleep that night. This was what he had wanted without even knowing it, more than any home. He wanted to be loved by his family in a way that Arsheesh never could compare to. There was just one thought that made his eyes pop open just as he was being lulled into sleep. _If only…If only Aravis had the same thing_.


	3. Rejection

**Author's Note:** So _now_ you guys know why my last chapter was full of warm fuzzies. To tear them all down in this one, muhaha! I'm not that evil, really. I just wanted to further delve into Aravis's meeting with her father. And since my other Cor/Aravis story, "Almost There", didn't give me the opportunity to do it; I now have the perfect outlet. Before I continue with the story, I want to make it clear that though these stories may borrow stuff from each other they are not the same! I have a very different plan for this story, you'll see as soon as more chapters go up. Enjoy!

**Prompt 3: Rejection**

Aravis had waited a long time for this day. She had stuck it on her calendar and crossed off days until it arrived. The preparations for this day had seemed endless. She had ordered all the food in and had the decorations placed in just the right manner. Her father, after all, was a particular man and she wanted everything to be perfect. The decorations and food were Calormene inspired and, with some persuading, she had even gotten a couple of servants to wear the garb of Calormene slaves. She wanted to show her father that, above all things, she had not lost her culture by her escape.

There was only one problem. Her father was a man of tradition, the very same tradition that dictated there would be no further contact between family members if one forgets the chain of command, imprinted on them since birth. _However_, Aravis thought, inspecting the gauzy fabrics that she had hung up around the dining hall, _He can overlook that, surely, if I can._ Aravis stepped back to marvel at her handiwork. King Lune had given her permission to welcome her father in any way she saw fit. Only he and Cor really understood how much this meeting meant to her. They were going to make an appearance—just a short one—to show how well she was being treated in this far off land.

A servant signaled her father's entrance, causing her heart to beat even faster. Her father was finally here. She looked down at herself. Aravis was wearing the rich silk garb of a Tarkheena. Normally she wouldn't have bothered, but her father had always wanted her to uphold all her duties as a daughter, which included embracing fashion just as much as Lasraleen had. Now, she had a chance to be the daughter he'd always wanted.

"Here I come," she said racing down to the entrance hall, but still being careful enough not to damage her new clothes. From the archway she saw her father look around in confusion at the decorations, clearly fashioned in the Calormene style. A huge grin spread across Aravis's face.

"Hello father," she said stepping out from the archway and giving him a dignified curtsy. She broke out into a quick walk towards him. "I've missed you." Suddenly, as though she couldn't wait any longer, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. A moment later she realized that all of this might have overwhelmed him and released him. She stepped back and gestured to the room.

"I thought you might like these decorations. The servants were proud to decorate in the style of such a civilized country as Calormene," Aravis said leading her father to the dining room. Her father just stared at her. Perhaps he was as nervous as she. She almost laughed to think of her father, the Great Rashish, nervous at the thought of reuniting with his daughter. "Here, come and eat. They have all the delicacies of our native land. I haven't had to miss much. Except you and the family." Here she bowed her head respectfully, as a good daughter should. Rashish sat, but didn't put anything onto his plate.

"If you liked Calormene so much, why did you leave?" he said in an accusatory tone. His harsh eyes fixed on Aravis.

"I did like Calormene, Father, exceedingly so. I only did not like Ahosta," Aravis scanned her father's face for any sign of forgiveness. She spoke again in a fearful rush, with her head bowed. "But of course I wanted to obey you father. I knew Ahosta was a horrible man and I knew that even Tash would forgive-"

"Tash does not forgive those that go against his will," Rashish interrupted a torrent of angry words cutting through Aravis's meek tone. "Daughter, you of all people know why we are different from the common riffraff that accost people on market days."

"I do not think that I have dishonored you or my family. I know I went against your wishes, but I saw Ahosta in a way that you could not father. He showed himself to be a most unpleasant man."

"Does the Tisroc think him a most unpleasant man?" Rashish stood up, nearly shouting now.

"No, but-"

"Do you think yourself a better judge of character than the Tisroc?"

"No, father please I-."

"Then how can you deem yourself worthy to choose your own husbad? You know that is not how it's done in our culture. Do you really consider yourself wiser than the sages of the past? You knew the offence, Aravis. You knew the consequences for your escape. No daughter of mine will ever shirk the consequences bestowed upon her." Aravis could hardly hear her father's words as they rained down upon her like a torrent of arrows during war. She saw King Lune and Cor step into the hall. Her father abruptly stopped his reprimands and turned to face the newcomers. Everything about him, from his height to his impeccably polished armor, decreed him a force to be reckoned with.

"Oh," Aravis curtsied, stumbling a little out of nervousness, in the direction of Cor and King Lune. She spoke again with her head bowed and saw the shock written all over the faces of her Archenland companions. "Father, this is King Lune and Prince Cor of Archenland. They are happy to be hosting me and have made me a lady of the court with proper apartments and everything. King Lune, Prince Cor this is my father, the Great Rashish Tarkaan of the Western provinces of Calormene." King Lune and Cor both bowed to Rashish and Aravis.

"How do you do, sire?" I hope you find your stay here in Archenland most enjoyable," said King Lune, his usually jolly tone now stiff and formal. "Your daughter has been preparing for weeks for your visit. I trust it is all to your satisfaction. However, we would be happy to get you anything you need."

"Yes, sire," said Cor a shaky smile still on his lips. "I am pleased to meet a man of your high standing and reputation." Rashish merely nodded at Cor and King Lune before turning to Aravis.

"You cannot shirk your duty. I raised you to be always mindful above all of the honor you bring to your family. Now you disgrace us, forsaking the title of your native country. You have disregarded not only my word, but that of the ruler of our country. You are not a Calormene any more Aravis. And I have no ties to you." Rashish strode toward the door.

"Father, wait!" Aravis scrambled down the hallway after her father. "Please. How can you just leave me?"

"Leaving was your decision. No daughter of mine would ever shame her family. Above all things Aravis, you have proved to be a disappointment." And with that Rashish turned on his heel and left. Aravis hardly flinched at the lound resounding slamming of the heavy entrance hall doors. She swallowed and turned to Cor and King Lune with a watery eyed smile.

"Um, so now we have all this Calormene food in the dining hall. I think I'll clear it away, if it's all right with you. Thanks for meeting my father." Aravis rushed toward the dining hall and started clearing plates away. She brought each one to the kitchen herself. Cor ran after her.

"You don't have to do this, Aravis. The servants can clear all this away," he said watching her clean plates with robotic precision.

"Oh no! I forgot about the servants dressed as slaves. I will have to tell them to change back into their regular uniform and-."

"I'll do that," said Cor interrupted. "It's okay. My father and I will take care of everything."

"No!" said Aravis, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Vaguely aware of them, she scrubbed at her eyes as if trying to stop the tears from coming out. "You've done too much for me already. I can do this on my own."

"Aravis," Cor said a command present even in his gentle tone. "Just sit down." Together, they both collapsed on the three stairs leading to the dining hall. Aravis leaned heavily on the wall behind her.

"I'm fine," she said thickly. "I knew this was going to happen. In some ways this whole thing was my fault for getting my hopes up. I mean he was right to-"

"No father has a right to treat you like that. It doesn't matter that he's a Tarkhaan. He can't just pretend like you aren't his daughter."  
"I told you wouldn't understand!" Aravis said angrily, tears trickling down her face. She wiped them away and took a deep breath to stave off any lingering tears. "He loves me. He does. It's just how things go in noble families. How would you know what that's like?"

"I don't, you're right. But I do know that you came here for a reason. We're not going to turn you out that easily."

"I knew that," Aravis said. "You people don't know any better. You don't know anything."

"We know how to make cookies," Cor said dangling one in front of her face. Cookies were the one thing they had missed out on in Calormene. Sure there were ices, but cookies were a whole lot better, at least according to Cor and Aravis. It was one of the only things Cor and Aravis could agree on. Aravis sniffled a little, but accepted the cookie just the same. It was all about small victories with her, after all, and this certainly counted as one.

"You know my mother (on whom be the peace of the g-ds) used to do this. When I was really little," Aravis said in a tone just a shade lower than her usual voice. "But just for really important things. She would always sneak me a cup of ices even though my father always hated us eating too many sweets. But she did it anyway." It was the first time Aravis had ever spoken of her mother to Cor.

"She sounds really special," he said. It was one of those comments that normally would mean nothing, but said at just the right place carried a whole new weight of meaning.

"She was. I mean, she died when I was only six, but I guess I'm lucky to have known her. I think when she died part of father went with her. He was harsher with my brother and I, especially me because now I had to uphold the honor of being the lady of the house. And I didn't know how. I still don't." Cor had never really thought of Aravis's past, never wondered about where she came from. After she had told her story to them when they first met, he had never expressed a wish to delve deeper. However, there was something about her unabashedly telling more of her story, despite the fact that he had never asked, that made him see Aravis as a girl. Not as a Tarkheena or a great lady-in-training. Just a girl who was scared and confused because she wanted her father to love her and he didn't.

"I think you'll make a great lady," Cor said honestly, looking Aravis straight in the eyes. Cor was never one for saying things that he didn't mean for the sake of boosting one's spirits.

"Really?" Aravis asked looking up at Cor, as if hardly daring to believe him. He nodded and seemed to wait for her to say more. When she didn't he spoke up.

"Of course. Look at the way you organized all the servants. And then the minute everything went badly you never lost your head. You did that on our journey, too, remember? When I got snatched up as Corin? You just stood there cool as a cucumber and carried on with the plan." Aravis stood up and scrubbed at her eyes will the balls of her hands. When she spoke most of the thickness was gone from her voice.

"Thanks Cor. You've been a brick," Aravis's voice was tinged with gratitude as she spoke this familiar words. Cor stood up as well, slightly dusting himself off.

"You'll be okay?" he looked at her, trying to gage her expression.  
"Well, that depends," she said, a conspiratorial twinkle in her eyes. "Do you think we can filch some more cookies from the kitchens?"

"C'mon, that's too easy. Prince Cor and Lady Aravis? We could get a whole group of servants to do nothing all day but bake cookies if we wanted." Aravis laughed and suddenly it was easier to act younger, rather than older than her age for once in her life. A huge weight was lifted off her shoulders, she was not a lady anymore, just Aravis. "Race you." Cor said, another challenge in his voice.

"Oh Prince Cor, you have many things to learn. And one of them is to never separate a sad girl from her cookies!" Aravis took off running in the directions of the kitchens and Cor took off after, disturbing cooks and dishwashers, and just creating a mess. Finally they raided the cookies and ran off giggling upstairs. Later King Lune would probably gently rebuke them for acting like unruly three-year-olds, rather than the twelve-year-olds they were. But for now Aravis savored the mischief, almost as much as the cookies. There was a time and place for proper behavior. But, as she was learning, there was often just as many times and places for impropriety. _And besides_ Aravis thought, licking the sweet cookie crumbs off her fingers _Aslan never asked me to be a lady, only to be mindful of others_. And for once those were expectations that she could live up to.


	4. Light

**A/N: **This was longest time ever spent on a single fanfiction chapter. I'll spare you the sordid details, but it involved a lot of writer's block, computer problems, and nightmares about the monstrosity of school projects. :D Suffice to say, I'm so glad I'm finally finished. Thank you to all my reviewers and anybody who favorited this story or put it on their story alert list! I love feedback ;it makes my day. Oh btw, the story is based on Scheherazade, but with my own twist. And without further ado is the next chapter in the 100 word challenge, with the prompt, Light.

**Chapter 4: Light**

There were times when Cor couldn't sleep. The long hours of the night would stretch into dawn and he would lie there, just having nodded off for five minutes here and there. All this lack of sleep left ample time for discovering the cause of said sleeplessness, but for all the time he spent thinking about it he could not come up with one single answer. There was nothing to be worried about in his new life. Cor's sleeplessness was like being thirsty in the rain. There was everything around him to ease any possible discomfort, and yet still the nighttime restlessness remained. One night after lying in bed for what seemed like one million years, but was more likely four hours, he got up and walked outside to the courtyard. The silence was thick with the sound of crickets. _At least_ he thought wryly_ this sound is better than the sound of empty thoughts rattling around in my head for hours_. Cor didn't know how long he sat there on the thick stone railing until the light of dawn shone through the inky darkness. Nor did he care, for it all seemed so peaceful. That is, until someone disturbed his sanctuary

"Why are you here?" Aravis's voice cut through the hum of crickets. Her tone was accusatory, almost as if he'd startled her rather than the other way around.

"Couldn't sleep," Cor said with an offhand shrug. He was so used to her by now that he couldn't care less even if she did think he was intruding. Aravis strode to the thick railing and sat down as if she was exhausted by the mere effort.

"Neither could I." There was silence. In one unspoken question they had gotten through all the polite, requisite topics that they could speak freely about with one another. There was something to be said for journeys, while Cor and Aravis's brought them closer together the circumstances they found themselves in after seemed to separate them again. One year after sharing cookies together and they were hardly on speaking terms.

"I don't know why," Aravis said breaking the silence with a tentative phrase. It was a peace offering; normally she never started conversations with Cor if she could help it.

"Neither do I," said Cor. And again they seemed to reach another standstill of conversation. Cor wasn't willing to elaborate and Aravis wasn't willing to ask.

"There was a story like this that I knew. Back in Calormene," Aravis said, scaling over the wall of silence that had been placed between them. Then at Cor's lack of response, she continued. "It was about this woman who was forced to marry a prince. Only the prince would take a wife and then behead her."

"Why?" Cor said looking over at Aravis, confused but genuinely interested.

"The prince did it as a warning," Aravis continued, smiling a little at the fact she was able to elicit a response from him. "His previous wife had been unfaithful to him, so he thought that if he cut the heads off his wives one day after he married them, he would never again have an unfaithful wife. His new wife was different, though. She was smarter. Since he beheaded his wives the day after their marriage, she told him a story the night that they married. And when she finished that one she told him another, this one more interesting than the first. She told even more stories one after another and-"

"The sun appeared dark in his eyes and he beheaded her?" asked Cor, mimicking Aravis's fancy storytelling phrases.

"No," Aravis rebuked. "Until the prince got to the point where he stayed up for one thousand days and nights."  
"Someone would die if they stayed up that many days. You'd go crazy after a week!"  
"How long have _you_ been staying up nights?" Aravis shot back at him. When Cor failed to answer, she continued. "Finally, one day in a sleepless haze, he spoke to her 'Okay you have won me over. I shall not harm you if you will only continue to be my faithful wife'. She agreed, but when he was asleep, she escaped from the palace."

"Wait, this makes even less sense than the sleep thing. Why did she spend so much time on him if she was just going to leave him in the first place? And couldn't she saved herself a lot of stories if she had just left when he was sleeping earlier?"

"The problem was," Aravis continued in a loud voice as if Cor hadn't spoken. "That though she loved him, she had made a deal with Dahsti, g-ddess of sleep. After staying awake to tell her stories; she had to spend a year away from the prince in a land across the dessert, far away from any dwelling of man. When the prince woke up to find his wife gone, the sun appeared dark in his eyes and he knew he would not rest until he found her. The prince fasted for two days and gave tribute to Tash. Finally the prince was so wearied he fell asleep at the altar and Tash visited him in a dream. Tash told him that though he could not lead the prince to his wife the wind would take him there. The prince made his way to the desert and called out to the winds that swept up the sand

"O, honorable powerful winds

Lead me to my beloved

At the palace of Dashti.

"So the East Wind came to him and said that he could only let the prince travel part of the way there and that would be for a price. The prince then said that he would give the wind his fourth best hunting dog. The wind accepted and blew him towards his destination. The prince called the West, North and South Winds and promised them his third, second, and first best hunting dogs. Finally the prince had reached the palace of Dashti, and she was reluctant to give the prince his wife. However, the prince gave her offerings of flowers and jewels until she agreed. Finally wife and husband were reunited and both lived happily, remaining faithful to one another until the end of their days."

"I still like my ending better with the beheading," Cor maintained, one corner of his mouth tugging up. Aravis knew that they were opposites. It used to be him bringing her out of her shell, but now it was the other way around. Cor seemed to have become more grave, more serious than ever before. So Aravis refused to respond. If he wanted to be grumpy and standoffish, he would have to be the first one to break down the wall. For a while the only noise was their breathing and the crickets. Cor looked at Aravis and he knew that if he knew her at all she was expectantly waiting for his answer. He knew patience was a learned trait for her, as well as her recently acquired humilty. Now that he thought about it, she had changed a in the past year. Well so had he. They had to.

"I know you want an answer," he said fixing his gaze on the horizon where the morning light was trickling over the horizon. "But I don't know what's wrong with me. I should be sleeping, but I'm not. Everything's fine, but I just… Forget it." Cor stole a quick glance at Aravis's reaction to this statement. Aravis raised one eyebrow. She would not get away that easily.

"I can't forget it if I don't know what "it" is," she said. Her tone was a challenge and encouragement all at once. She was listening. Now all Cor had to do was talk.

"It's like I said. There is nothing wrong. But that's the problem because I can't sleep. I dunno, do you ever.._think_ too much. Or maybe its not the thinking, it's the thoughts. But they're just the useless stuff you can't think of when you sleep."

"Like?"

"I don't know," Cor shrugged, disliking the probing nature of that one word. "The future. I'm not worried or anything. I just think about being king sometimes. It's not a big deal like I said. Don't you think of the future?" Cor was happy to direct the conversation away from himself. It was not a pleasant thing to have to reveal one's thoughts to someone. Especially if that someone was a girl who might totally laugh in one's face.

"Of course. Or at least I try to. I don't know where I'll be really. Every place I seem to think of myself in, I don't quite fit. I mean it's not as if I can predict the future. It's a little…unnerving to come up empty when thinking of future plans…isn't it?" Aravis wasn't exactly feeling any easier with revealing the source of her restlessness either. And then she realized her mistake.

"But," Aravis hastily amended. "I'm very happy here. King Lune and Corin and well, everyone is so nice. It's just that, that….I don't know. A lot has changed I guess." Aravis turned her gaze back to the sky and watched as the orange and pink hues lightened into early morning. They could both agree on that to be sure.

"It's weird," Cor said with a shade of a laugh in his voice. "I feel older. Not just today, but all the time. I dunno if I, if things, could ever go back to the way they were. I've never left anything behind like that."

"Me neither," Aravis said. Unknowingly Cor had voiced a shared concern between them. Sunlight diffused over the dusky blue sky and both were silent for a moment. Somehow it was peaceful to watch the dark of night fade into morning. Aravis savored that one moment of peace before speaking. "Even if I had no future there…There's always wondering, you know? About what could have happened. If It'd be better, safer. Which is silly because everything is nice and safe and wonderful here. But still…"

"There's always stupid thoughts. We've got to ignore them I guess." And there it was. The "we" had made its illusive appearance. Whether it was a slip-up or just casual conversation or even something more Aravis didn't know. But it was a start. Cor, on the other hand, wasn't thinking about anything, just watching the dawn periodically sharing a conspiratorial smile or joke with Aravis. If he had been thinking, he might have thought the absence of the rush of thoughts that had haunted his sleepless hours was strange. And for one blessed moment, just one, there was no future. There only a boy and a girl watching the sun rise and light spread across the sky. Why this ordinary natural occurrence was so captivating, neither could say. But they didn't have to. And it was a relief, in a small sort of way, to accept something without question. As serious as he had become, Cor knew that this relief was temporary. Thoughts could slide past any barrier. Yet, even so he hadn't gotten even a moment of this full relief in his waking hours since he started his sleepless nights. And perhaps it was not a shock, when he found he had the urge to rest his eyes, just for a moment. He hadn't even noticed he was asleep until he was gently shaken awake by Aravis.

"So it's broken," she said in a normal tone, although it sounded a little too loud to Cor's groggy mind.

"What is?"

"Your sleepless haze induced by my storytelling," she said with a smile.

"Hey now. I'm not the beheading type."

"No?"

"No. I'm more a burning at the stake kind of a guy."

"Okay, I never thought this before, but chivalry is totally dead. You are living proof of that," Aravis looked at Cor with mock outrage, her tone light and teasing.

"Oh come _on_. Rabadash wasn't enough of an example for you?"

"If you think about it from his totally screwed-up perspective, it's kind of sweet…"

"If I'm an un-chivalrous person, you're certifiably insane." And just like that the banter had returned after a year of slowly growing apart and one sleepless night. Cor was slightly amazed that that was all it took to come together, finally. And even Aravis's stubbornness couldn't account for all of this. They had met at a halfway point across the chasm between them. It didn't matter that they didn't fully understand one another anymore. Cor and Aravis had gotten a glimpse of one another's restless thoughts—the exact type of thoughts that would reveal the most about a person. The rest of the information they needed was filled in from their old archives about each other's habits and pet peeves. The sing-song tones of their banter filled the courtyard, stopping only when Aravis managed to "accidentally" dunk Cor into the bird pond. Cor stood up slowly, his clothes and hair dripping profusely. But all he saw was Aravis. He stepped out of the low lying bowl of the bird bath-more small pond than bath, really—and wrung out his shirt.

"You are so dead," he said calmly shaking his head. It was amazing what a good rest could do to a person. It was almost as satisfying as the perfect payback. A mischievous grin spread across Cor's face. Yes, payback was certainly sweet.


	5. Dark

**A/N: Aha! A quick update! Aren't you so proud? JK. I've had this chapter half written for a while, but I just started over today and it turned into a new chapter. And why such a fast update? Because procrastination is so productive...And onwards to the fifth chapter with the prompt, Dark!**

**Chapter 5: Dark**

Aravis would never have admitted it, but she was afraid of the dark. It ranked up there somewhere in between death by random falling objects (because she'd heard that could happen from someone, she was sure of it) and getting stung by bees (because despite the fact that there were bees only in Narnia, she _knew_ she was allergic to them). In short, it was only the sort of thing she thought about only come night time, but it was a very big deal. No one knew that she left a lantern burning in her room (getting burned to death was high on her list of fears as well), except for the servants that had provided it. Unlike the slaves of Calormene, Aravis knew that these jovial servants were more prone to lighthearted gossip about one another than about leaking her secret for all to know. She was sure that there was no rational way someone could discover this fear. Until one day Cor decided to foolishly barge in with only the merest of knocks as a warning.

"Aravis, I know you-." He stopped short as he noticed the room was exceedingly well-lit for someone's sleeping quarters. "What were you doing with that light on?"

"I was," Aravis hastily tried to think of a reasonable answer. "Reading, of course."

"Reading what?"

"Don't be such a busybody. What did you come here for anyway?"  
"Oh that. I know you've got my sword so don't play dumb," Cor was raising his voice at her with the door open behind him. This was unusual, normally he would've spoken to her with an annoying, almost unnerving calm marred only by the sharp tone of anger apparent only in his consonants

"What would I want with your sword? I've still got my scimitar from Calormene. Corin must've hid it as a joke." Aravis wanted to wave him away. The shorter he stayed, the less time he would have to put two and two together. But Cor, it seemed had no intention of leaving. Instead he closed the door and stepped closer to Aravis. Aravis sat up straighter against the headboard of her bed. "What in the name of Aslan are you doing?"

"I just had to have some excuse for coming in here like this. Now that we're older it's hardly proper," Cor meant that it might have been okay for naïve twelve-year olds to be attached at the hip, but a girl and boy both thirteen-going-on fourteen should know better. "There's something wrong and I didn't want…I didn't want anybody else to know about it."

"So what is it?" Aravis said more acerbically than she should have. Cor coming in here had destroyed her good temper. Not to mention, that when he had entered, despite what it might have seemed like to him, she had been trying to get to sleep.

"I'm getting to that. Do you mind?" Here Cor gestured at a far away corner of Aravis's mattress, indicating that he wanted to sit. "It's kind of a lot to tell."

"Okay," Aravis said suspiciously. Now that she noticed Cor looked exhausted, as though a night of tossing and turning had done its work. What kind of news could do that to him? Normally, Aravis was guilty of the crime of over-thinking, not Cor. While it was true, he had his troubles, normally he sought to overcome them. Aravis just sought to overanalyze her troubles. Cor's way was probably smarter, not that he would know _that_ anytime soon.

"There's something wrong with my father," he said shortly. "He's seeking alliances with men that are not of this world."

"What do you mean, not of this world? There is only this world."

"No there isn't. There's the land of Spare Oom that the Pevensies came out of. And there's also the land of Telmar and that's where these men come from. They are not very civilized men. I fear Father has made a mad bargain."

"Maybe he just wants to keep his friends close and enemies closer," Aravis suggested sagely. Surely men who were not of this world were no threat to them, the people who had been born and raised off a mixture of Calormene air and dreams of the far-off lands to the North. Some unknown men from a distant disconnected land were no match against their armies, were no match against Aslan, surely.

"I don't think so. He said that he really trusts them. "  
"How do you know that they are so bad?"

"I've seen them! They are knaves if there ever were men that fit the description. I know they want more than father's friendship, they want his land, his military forces. It sounds dumb I know, but if you saw the way they acted, so uncivilized, so uncouth-."

"So very much like yourself before you came here."

"They're not like me!" Cor's expression was mad now, almost as if he wanted to shake Aravis until she understood him. "Look, I know you think I'm this uncivilized cretin, but at least I _try_ to be well-mannered. These men can have no pretense of politeness."

"Well what do you want me to do about it?"

"Aravis, this is a big deal. I wouldn't tell you if I didn't think it was serious. If they get a chance to overthrow our country we would be at the seat to Narnia, at the seat to Calormene even. They could have unspeakable power over the whole country."

"I think you're being paranoid, Cor. Honestly, I don't know what's gotten you in such a state. Look, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll come to a meeting with them or your father, as a scribe or something. Then if I think there's something wrong we'll sort it out, okay? Now would you mind? I'm trying to sleep, here," Aravis's curt tone had returned. All Cor had to go on was gut feeling after all, and one's intentions were hardly ever right about a person after all. Take him, for example. Aravis had thought Cor to be this silly little fisherman's son and look at him now, looking every inch the prince set on defending his country. Cor stood up slowly looking equally peeved with Aravis for dismissing him so quickly.

"Fine," he said with a touch of asperity. "I'll just extinguish your lantern then, shall I? Sweet dreams." The door closed briskly behind him and Aravis was left alone in darkness. Okay, scratch the fact that there was no way anyone in the world who could discover her fear; Cor just had. What's more she couldn't find the matches she kept on her bedside table in case of situations just like this. Everything always seemed more cluttered in the dark. Finally after a good ten minutes of searching she resigned herself to the fact that she was just going to have to go to sleep this way. She tried turning to her window to get the barest glimmer from the moonlit night, then tried facing the doorway so the most minute trickle of light from under the door would shine her way. Unfortunately, she had no luck as both light sources were too feeble to even make out from where she lay. Aravis curled up into a small ball on her bed, to be a smaller target for whatever gruesome images her mind could come up with. Sometimes you really were your worst enemy, and with Aravis this was certainly true. This was going to be a long night.

Cor hardly fared better with his night's sleep. Aravis had been right to assume he had spent the better part of yesterday night tossing and turning. And Cor knew that if the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach was any indication, he would be spending this night much the same as all the others. He couldn't fathom why Aravis didn't believe him. How could she be so sure? Cor had lost any sense of faith in his country when he had seen his father, alternately amply generous to his friends and gravely threatening to his enemies, trust those men without a second thought. He had tried talking to his father, but like Aravis all reason was simply lost on him. Proof was lacking. He had no evidence and no one could act on a hunch. And whatever lukewarm plan that Aravis had come up with just to placate him had done nothing to assuage his fears. Cor rolled over to face his window. Though, he couldn't see it the moon was out there. Aslan. Could Aslan help them with this? Cor knew that from his previous conversations that Aslan was unpredictable. This might be just the sort of situation he would help, even if it was just a correct hunch. Only the great lion also might have them figure it out themselves. He was all too fond of doing that. But surely if it involved a battle…? Yes, of course. Aslan would help them. _Aslan is like the moon_, Cor thought _Even though I can't see him he's still there. Or so I hope._ And for now Cor made himself believe that hope could be enough. It had to be.

Aravis, too, had found comfort in the moon. Equipped with a pillow and blanket she was now sleeping on her balcony. After all, she could solve her own problems. Even if Cor could screw up a situation, she was still one step ahead. The moonlit glow provided a nice source of light and the cool air reminded her of the country. Especially of the time she and her brother had crept out of their neatly furnished house in the country and slept out on the grass to see the stars. He had taught her the constellations then. Her eyes crept over them, especially the Leopard. That had been her favorite one then. She smiled with a tinge of sadness. Of course he wouldn't be here now, and therefore wouldn't be able to enjoy the peace that he had fought for. _Oh well_ Aravis thought, lightly brushing at the trickle of tears that had collected on her eyelashes. _He must be looking down from all those constellations right now. Watching over me, laughing a little to see that I still haven't gotten over that fear of the dark. Maybe it's enough to have him here, if not in body then in spirit. If not in flesh than in the stars, in memory_. It would be enough, Aravis knew, simply because it had to be. There were some things that were inescapable and death was one of them. It's not like he could come back at her mere wish. Even if she did wish and hope and pray for it with all her heart. Aravis sighed and shook her head slightly to clear it. She didn't want to think thoughts that would lead nowhere. She looked again at the moon, it was full, a glowing orb against a backdrop of inky blackness. In a way she was lucky, she told herself. She had someone looking out for her. That was more than a lot of people could say, wasn't it? Of course it was. And even if…no one was watching out for her at least she had the hope that someone was. Hope was better than actual proof. It was hope for her future that had carried her to Archenland, hope for her life that had made her push Hwin to escape the lion and run into Shasta. Aravis wrapped herself in her blanket a little tighter and wished that hope was a little more tangible. _But I suppose_ she thought with a wry smile _Then there would be no reason for faith. The faith that calls you to keep on hoping everything will be okay even though it feels like you're stumbling through the dark. I guess thats why they call faith blind._

**A/N #2: Okay this is just a quick disclaimer so no one gets offended. I think most highly of faith and believing in something. However, for the purpose of furthering the plot Aravis and Cor do not fully have the trust to believe that everything's going to turn out okay. They do believe it to some extent, but they still have some doubt that it's going to happen. I know a lot of you guys have strong religious beliefs and I respect that, so I just wanted to make super clear that this isn't an attack on religion or anything. It's more of a circumstance of not being sure what to believe. And now that I've run that point into the ground, I'll let you make up your own conclusions about the next chapter! Goodbye awesome readers! **


	6. Hero

**A/N:** Okay so this chapter I decided to futher test my writing abilities by centering the majority of the chapter around dialouge. I notice that I tend to describe more thoughts than have an actual scene. So in the spirit of breaking with tradition, this little plot bunny emerged! Three cheers for crazy writing experiments (that's what this whole challenge thing is actually) and plot development!

**Chapter 6: Hero**

"I wish you hadn't been right," Aravis said softly to Cor, leaning against the thick stone railing of her balcony. Aravis's room was the only place now that she and Cor could talk in peace, without fear of anyone overhearing. In just a couple of short months Archenland had been overrun with Telamarines, who were daily posing a bigger and bigger threat to King Lune. Any joy Cor might have gotten out of Aravis admitting to agreeing with his view over her own, was marred by the dire consequences it had on the nation, on his home.

"So do I," Cor said kicking at a small pebble that had found its way onto the solid stone floor. He sighed ran his fingers through his hair with agitation. "I don't know what to do. I'm supposed t make the decisions in cases like this. Clearly my father is certifiably insane."

"Don't say that," Aravis said capturing Cor's gaze with one of her serious stares. "King Lune is overly trusting. It's an admirable fault."

"No fault is admirable, that's why they're called faults."

"Stop moping about, will you? I am actually trying to think of a plan," Aravis said the characteristic haughtiness returned to her voice. Cor knew her waspish nature had only returned because she knew she was moping as much as he was. He kept silent although he doubted this nighttime plotting escapade would prove more productive than any of the others.

"Okay, so we've got their forces, versus us, Narnia, versus Aslan. We might be able to call in reserves from some of the Eastern isles, that is if they can get here in time. That seems like a lot in our favor, but-."

"Aren't you forgetting Calormene?" Cor asked just to be contrary and because he knew it would annoy Aravis. He was not disappointed when she glared at him for his interruption.

"Calormene wouldn't come toward us without a ten foot pole, we can barely fight together, let enough talk peaceably long enough to become allies."

"What happened to your idealism?" Cor asked sarcastically. Okay, now he could see he was being a little mean, but he couldn't just pass up the opportunity to taunt Aravis. Especially not when it was yielding such good results. She was sure getting mad at him.

"These aren't idealistic plans, they are practical solutions," Aravis huffed, then continued on in a more serious vein. "You don't want to be their prisoners of war, their slaves, do you? I have seen slavery Cor and let me tell you its not pretty."

"Don't you think I know that? What is this stupid education for if not to explicitly prepare me for this type of situation?" Cor fumed although he was more mad at himself than Aravis. She, after all, was being practical while he still couldn't get past the fact he was useless in this situation. More useless than a prince, and certainly a king-in-training should be. Aravis looked at Cor again, only this time it wasn't with anger.

"Education prepares you for nothing," she said after some time of silence.

"That doesn't make sense. Of _course_ it does. You learn about battles and then you fight them."

"Alright then," Aravis said evenly. "You've read books about battles haven't you? You've been instructed in the tactics of war?" Here Cor nodded warily. He could sense that Aravis was trying to prove a point at his expense. "Well how did that compare to your first battle? From what I saw with the Hermit it was chaos, men jumping about, swords flailing, arrows pelting from everywhere. Could a book, or any speech about war tactics for that matter, really have prepared you for that?"  
"No."

"Then there you go," Aravis looked very satisfied with herself. Cor rolled his eyes. Of course it was alright for _her _to speak of education in such a way. She wasn't the one who had to learn from it.

"Wait," Cor said suddenly.

"Wait for…?

"If we talk to one of the Pevensies, King Edmund he's the most solemn and more likely to believe us, they're so far removed from the situation that they'll just take our word for it."

"Unless they talk to your father about it and he is able to reassure them. It is easier to believe things if one doesn't want them to happen."

"No, we'll just tell him that Father is unreachable. King Edmund won't like it, but he'll hardly be able to refuse both of us. It's not like the Telamarines do a good job of hiding their intentions for this land after all."

"So it's settled then."

"Yes, I believe it has."

"You'll explain this to King Edmund and it will all be solved."

"Me? Why me? It'll be more convincing if you persuade him because you originally thought that my idea was crazy. You'd at least know the counter-arguments!"

"You're the one who had the hunch in the first place that started this mess. Besides you're also the one next-in-line for the throne not me." Cor sighed, again raking his hair with his fingers. In all honesty he felt like a unfortunate knight-errant in one of those Calormene stories he'd heard when he was younger, the kind who get eaten by dragons or struck down by lightning. He looked beseechingly at the heavens for a moment.

"Fine, I'll do it." Cor shrugged. It was best not to shrug in the presence of life-changing decisions, but Cor decided to accept his fate. After all it couldn't be worse than being a dragon's lunch, could it? Cor really hoped there was only one answer to that question and it was an emphatic "no".


	7. Scars

**A/N: I love changing my computer five times in the past two weeks, don't you? Also College app due dates on New Years's, yep I love that, too. But besides all the "lovely" things going on I do appreciate all the attention this story has gotten. To you reviewers: I know it doesn't look like it, but I DO read your reviews and they DO encourage me to update! I really do appreciate all your feedback as well. Thanks to all the favs and story alerts this thing has gotten as well (and to my invisible readers-I thank you because I know you're out there or, at least, I think I do)... Anyways enjoy the new chapter and tell me what you think!**

**Edit: Had to change courtesans to courtiers. *Facepalm* Now **_**this**_** is what makes me love you readers. Thanks for sticking with this.**

**Chapter 7: Scars**

Aravis did not like the lilting flirtation of the boys at court. At seventeen, the game was tiring. All they wished to talk about was their successful hunts where they wrestled a bear or some other such nonsense. All this would be rather trying on its own but the fact that she had to smile and posture along with them in the midst of a war drove her crazy. Who cared about the puffed playboys who _said_ they could wrestle tigers when the real men were out fighting the war. Except for Cor. He had to stay and run the castle in his father's absence. This worried Aravis, who knew with a sixth sense she despised that this would all end up in some Odysseus-like scenario. Cor would be Telemachus, of course, the strong empowered youth that no one took seriously. And as Aravis was dreading, she would be Penelope, the woman who waits for the perfect suitor while all the other pompous, pampered lordlings swarmed around her. This scenario didn't quite match up as she Cor wasn't her son, like Telemachus was Penelope's, but still Aravis's misgivings held. Her only consolation in this was, ironically, Cor.

He was more of a help than a hindrance in this sort of situation, shooing away her prospective husbands with mutterings of fostering alliances with Calormene through marriage. Even though he never mentioned her directly, all those courtiers immediately assumed Aravis, as knowledgeable of status and marriages as they were. However, neither Cor nor Aravis could rectify the court completely; for though Cor called himself Prince Regent while King Lune was away, it was the Telamarines that really ran the show. Unaffected by Cor and Aravis's numerous efforts to limit their power; the small group of men grew in both status and in number until they created the beginnings of an empire. Of course, technically Archenland was a colony with its own government, but this was merely said to placate the people. In reality, Archenland served the role of a puppet, carrying out the orders of a much greater power, the Head of the Telamarines, Caspian the first (he was planning to have a long lineage of sons after him named Caspian, but Aravis hoped he wouldn't make it to that point).

Aravis's smile ached as she brushed away yet another too-eager suitor. Her jaw muscles clenched in order to barricade the scream of frustration that threatened to wrench itself from her throat. Was no one going to talk about the war? Were they all going to sit there talking of all their shallow shows of strength and meaningless small talk subjects when on some supposedly removed battle field people were dying for their freedom? For the third time that night Aravis locked eyes with Cor and gave him the signal, one raised eyebrow and flicking a pretend speck of dust of her clothes in the direction of the door. They had developed this unspoken language at fifteen, when the tedium of court life had become a necessary evil. Slowly Aravis made her way toward the garden, the one she had planted in an unusual bout of homesickness. Even now all the flowers imported from Calormene emitted a smell that was characteristic of springtime to Aravis. Five minutes later Aravis was joined by Cor. They staggered their arrival so that even the must adept of busybodies would have nothing to suspect of the foreign Tarkheena and the Prince Regent. Aravis shuddered as she thought of how all the courtiers would lap that rumor up; it sounded like a bad romance novel.

"I don't know how you stand it," Aravis fumed. Cor rolled his eyes. They had been down this avenue of conversation and all its variances many times.

"I don't. That's why I'm here," he replied in a tone of forced calm.

"Why does this all matter? I don't care what they do in there. I want to know how King Lune and Corin are doing at keeping those usurpers from invading our land!"

"Aravis keep your voice down. Someone might hear and-."

"No! I can't! I'm like them; I can't be placated that easily. I care about more things than dresses and duels! Why can't they see that?" Aravis was close to yelling now.

"Stop!" Cor harsh tone cut through Aravis's lamentations. And for a moment, she was taken aback. This wasn't silly like Shasta, yelling at her to stop an argument; this was Cor, Prince Regent of all Archenland giving her a royal command. Cor continued, his tone so soft and gentle it was hard to imagine him yelling a moment before. "We've been over this. Corin and Father aren't coming back until the war is over. We have to be just as strong as them fighting out there, as keeping home safe for when they return."

"But I can't go back in there," Aravis said peevishly, perhaps all the more peevish as she knew he was right. She hated Cor's soft tone, the one that always made her feel like he was talking to her as he would a little sister. She hated it even more because he was right, that was why there were here and what they planned to do in these garden chats over and over again. And perhaps she was all the more peevish because she knew that at any minute tears—of anger or sadness she did not know—would start to spill out from her eyes. Aravis turned away and started to scrub at her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears and prevent Cor from noticing. "And pretend everything is okay when it's not. And neither should you."

"We've got to, remember? It's like when we had to warn Archenland and Narnia about Rabadash's army. We didn't think we could go any further, remember? We almost quit, but something told us we had to do this; we had to warn them or they could've been killed." Without really mentioning it, Cor had given a voice to that element of danger that bolstered all their fake politeness night after night. The undercurrent of fear that they knew if they didn't play the Telamarine's game, they would be subject to the usurpers' wrath. For without the game of pretend provincial power there was a clear picture of Telarmarine manipulation and home country loss of power. Neither party was willing to own up either circumstance. So this left Cor and Aravis spending most of their nights with smiles stretched tight like saran wrap across their faces, dancing into oblivion with people they could care less about. Aravis said nothing, letting the knowledge of the danger they were in fully sink in. It was clear the Telarmarines would have an empire with or without home country rule. Cor and Aravis had both become pawns in a game that stretched out farther than they could even comprehend.

"I can't" said Aravis, in a tight tone barely above a whisper, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. Cor brought a hand to her shoulder.

"You're going to be fine," he said calmly. Cor was always calm these days, almost scarily so. "Everything is okay."

"Why don't you worry? Why am I the only one who is freaking out about our country? I mean I'm the _foreigner_ I shouldn't care." Aravis threw out a word she knew people in the court constantly described her with behind her back. Despite living in Archenland for most of her life she would always be foreign to them, but then they were mostly foreigners themselves. Those gossiping courtiers were partly composed of Archenlanders, Narnians, and Telamarines, who were men so strange they were not of this world. _They_ were the foreigners.

"I don't worry because you do it enough for the both of us."

"That's not a real answer," Aravis replied her voice still thick from crying. Cor's hand was like a comforting anchor, bringing her back into reality and out of her fears. With the palm of his hand he could feel the edges of the scars that she had gotten long ago, scars that had been given to her for her lack of empathy. Now it was Aravis seeking empathy, but Cor had none to give. He wanted to comfort her to protect her from the heart-stopping mind-numbing uncertainty of being the head of a country that was slowly but surely being taken over.

"Oh come on, what do you want me to say?" Cor asked removing his hand from her shoulder. Her shoulder felt a little colder without it.

"The truth."

"I get scared sometimes just like you. But I get over it…because I have to. And people are counting on me. People like you." Aravis turned to face him, squinting a little. "And Father and Corin. Even thought I give a hang about the people in there, it's the people here that matter."

"There's only me here."

"Here, as in with king and country and all that."

"Oh."

"Is that what you wanted?" Cor asked, getting a little short with Aravis. "For me to say what you already knew? Of course I'm scared. I'd be a fool not to."

"No, you misunderstood me. It's just—I'm always the one complaining. And you just listen. And that's good, but…It's almost as if you don't feel it. Like it's just me. And that makes me crazy because it already feels like it's just me. It's not like anyone in there gives a hang about the war."

"Trust me. I'm right there with you." Cor waited for Aravis to say something, but she was unusually silent. "Do you want to go in yet? If we don't they'll start to talk." Aravis sighed.

"No." Aravis took a deep breath. "I thought we ran away from all this."

"It's different though here. We chose this."

"Doesn't that make it all the worse? We chose our own coffin."

"Stop talking like that. We're not going to die. All those suitors won't kill you," Cor spoke, but his joke fell flat. Aravis turned away from him abruptly. Clearly he hadn't read _The Odyssey_. _They may not kill me_, she thought _But they can kill you._ "I'm not going to let anything happen to you." Cor finished and his hand slightly brushed her shoulder, as though he almost thought better of his action. Aravis just waited there for a while standing with Cor and smelling the flowers that reminded her of Calormene. Cor was always fearless, even when she couldn't be. He ran in front of Aslan, basically trying to save her from what he thought to be a dangerous lion. Aravis liked thinking of him that way, kind of blockheaded and kind of fearless, and always ready for a challenge. And yet, he was just as scared as she was. She knew before he said it really, she just wanted verbal proof. She had seen it in his eyes, in his fingers that clenched at his sides in fists; he had never done that before he was Prince Regent. Aravis knew this was wearing on him, too, though he complained a whole lot less. Yet, he wanted to watch out for her, despite his fear and the tedium of court; he was willing to brave the crowded ballroom yet again.

"Okay," she said "Let's go back."


	8. Pain

**A/N: I know I've been posting a lot of emo prompts. They're on my prompts list so I wanted to cover them quickly. The next one will be happier, I swear! And MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY HOLIDAYS to all!**

**Chapter 8:** **Pain**

"Ouch!" Cor heard the cry from a mile away. Without thinking of social protocol, his status as Prince Regent, or anything really besides the fact that Aravis was in danger he rushed over to the archery field. He silently regretted even leaving her alone at the archery practice field. However he did have his kingly duties to attend to and all that. When he got there all he saw was bandages being thrust at Aravis from various members of the Royal Medical Staff.

"What's wrong?" he panted.

"I should ask the same question of you? Did you run all the way here?" Clearly whatever ailed Aravis was not enough to take down her comebacks. Even though, she was technically right. Cor disliked technicalities.

"No," he said defensively. "I happened to be nearby. Good lord! Did you get stabbed with an arrow or something?" Finally catching sight of the wound, Cor was glad he had come at the first sign of trouble.

"That's not how it works," Aravis shook her head, amused at Cor's worries. "You are stabbed with a sword and shot by an arrow. And it's not as bad as it looks. There now, you see?" Finally her arm was bandaged and she displayed it to Cor nonchalantly.

"But how did it happen?" he asked, trying to wrest the truth of the matter from her.

"It wasn't my own fault, if that's what you're asking." What Cor really wanted to know if there was evidence of some assassination plot or any of the Telamarines "accidentally" letting fly an arrow at her.

"Just forget about it. I have my own business to attend to," he said turning away in exasperation. He could never reason with Aravis when she was like this.

"Which you didn't think of when you running over here," Aravis muttered, loud enough for only Cor's ears. Cor pretended not to hear her and strode away. Meanwhile, all throughout his day he wondered and worried about what the wound meant. Was it Aravis being stupid or was it something to really consider as a threat to their already limited power? Cor hated having to think like this. He wanted it to all go away, to wake up tomorrow morning and have his father and brother back and his home without the Telamarines. But he also knew that realistically tomorrow would be exactly the same as all the rest of the days spent under Telamarine rule.

Perhaps that's why Cor took that early morning walk, to get away from it all and do something he shouldn't. Really he should have told someone where he was going. If he was killed, injured, or captured no one would be the wiser. But Cor liked escaping from the practicalities of being king before his time. He liked the silence of the walk even more. It was just him and the endless early morning sky, slowly being smeared with lighter shades of blue and pink. Ambling along without any real purpose, he soon came to a clearing where he sat on a fallen log. Just being here in the forest, here with all the Talking animals and dryads and fauns, made him truly feel at home. Suddenly a sharp crack of a twig, alerted him to an intruder.

"Who's there?" he asked his voice wary. He turned in the direction of the noise. He saw the branches rustle and he knew that it couldn't be a Talking animal. No, that was a human presence. Careful, not to make any noise, he crept toward the disturbed branches. Then he heard the rustling of leaves further down, clearly the intruder was making a run for it. Cor crashed through the branches, abandoning all hope of being quiet. Ahead of him he could see a figure obscured by branches. He was close enough to discern that whoever it was wasn't a soldier, as they didn't have the odd shape of someone wearing armor. He decided to take another chance.

"Wait!" he called after the figure. He sped up and almost caught up to the intruder, but he lost his footing on some fallen branches.

"Get off me," Aravis said from underneath him. "You're poking my arm."

"Oh, sorry I didn't know it was you," Cor replied standing up and brushing himself off. "Why'd you have to run? I thought you were a Telamarine."

"Well I wasn't. And maybe I didn't want to deal with you this early in the morning!" Aravis huffed and Cor rolled his eyes. Again, Aravis managed to turn this into a fight.

"You're being stupid. If you have a problem with me just tell me and I'll figure something out."

"Oh I'm being stupid. That's rich coming from a prince stupid enough not to tell anyone where he was going. What if someone sent out a search party?"

"That's not a problem seeing as you clearly didn't want to find me."

"This is a stupid conversation and I'm not continuing it anymore," Aravis said her haughty tone back in action.

"Fine. Then at least tell me what happened to your arm. Did someone else hit you?" Aravis fell silent at this new change in subject or perhaps as a result of her earlier statement, Cor couldn't quite tell which.

"It's important that I know so that I can determine the political situation, Aravis," Cor's tone of forced calm had returned.

"It wasn't an assassination attempt."

"Then why won't you just tell me? I won't gloat at you if you accidentally hit yourself. I'm not twelve anymore." Aravis and Cor sat in silence for a while.

"You don't always have to protect me, you know," Aravis's tone was stiff and she didn't look at Cor until the next part of her sentence. "Just because you're Prince Regent doesn't mean you have to be a total control-freak about everything."

"Okay, I'm sorry, but I still have no idea what I did wrong here," said Cor, his calm tone completely forgotten and his voice rising in exasperation. "All I knew was that you were in pain. I was trying to _help_. Not come in and save the day. And if I want to know what happened I don't see why it's a big deal. I mean I already told you that it's okay if it was an accident or not; so what the heck happened on the archery pitch?"

"Doesn't it make you angry that for once you don't know the answer? That I have a secret that you don't know?"

"No, what makes me angry is that you can't see common sense. There are a lot of things I don't know and there are a lot of secrets that I don't know about you. So what's your deal?" Aravis said nothing, only stared a him with an angry expression that Cor couldn't begin to understand. "Fine. If you want to play it that way I'm leaving. I don't need to put up with this."

"It was my fault. The whole arrow thing." This made Cor stop in his tracks and turn to look at Aravis.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes. But I didn't shoot it. Some other kid said something beastly about...Archenland and I couldn't let it go. So I said that if he wanted to say it again I'd report him and he shot me. He was younger and pretty dumb so it's nothing to worry about. I didn't tell you because you'd think I was picking trouble or you'd see something that wasn't there. This kid isn't a threat."

"What'd the kid say?"

"It's just an insult. It doesn't mean anything."

"Clearly you thought differently. What was the insult?" Cor wanted to know. Aravis's wary gaze landed upon him.

"Something about how Archenlanders are stupid or something. I can't remember."

"You can't remember an insult you started a fight over?" Cor's raised eyebrows made Aravis crack.

"Okay it was only partly about Archenland. The kid was really insulting…us," Aravis sighed and breezed through the next part. "He said that Archenland must have gone to the dogs if they let that boy-prince and Calormene girl…court each other rather than actually manage the country. He used more graphic terms, of course. You sort of proved his point by coming to my rescue."  
"Aravis, as your _friend_ it is my job to see that you don't kill yourself on a daily basis. Also, that boy is an idiot. It's not like I really manage the country after all, just appear like I do.

"Hey, _you're_ the one who tripped and practically crushed me. _I _should be watching out for you." And just like that the banter had started, not infused with anger and confusion anymore, just laughter. For that one moment, it seemed to Cor that their own words insulated them from everything. So what of stupid boys who criticized their country? Who cares about a war that they could do nothing about? The Telamarines, for all their strictness, couldn't control this—the laughter ringing out through the empty wood and Cor and Aravis's fake fighting. And, to Cor at least , there was finally peace.


	9. Endings

**A/N:** Maybe I should update less often, so you guys can smother me with reviews in my abscence...Hmm... But, seriously all y'all's reviews really warmed my heart. Thank you guys! I have an excuse for my lateness because this chapter was almost finished (except for the perfect ending), but was lost when I switched computers (AGAIN :P) Luckily, all my files are now backed up so I won't lose them! I swear to you that I only got this chapter out when I looked at my stories and was like "Wait, 14 reviews? When did this awesomeness happen?" Enjoy! And Happy belated New Year! I'm only 2 days off so it's not that bad, right?

**Chapter 9: Endings**

Aravis knew it was bound to happen. After all, the world had to end sometime. With all the ecosystems it supported, all the lives it cradled, it was no small wonder that it lasted as long as it had. Aravis knew the meaning of exhaustion, of carrying on even when your spirit fell like little more than a dry husk, so she understood how hard it must be to support so many people. However, it wasn't like the end of the world was a sure thing. And she knew that she should think the rumor a silly one, and bat it away like a fly. The old Aravis would have done that. Yet, in this time of war and confusion, even a whisper that the world was ending seemed as solid as a fact. Compared to all the unreal sorrow that the Telamarines had caused, the world ending was almost easy to believe. Aravis could even imagine the event taking place. After all, the Narnian kings and queens had once told her of such a scenario in a story at some long-ago dinner party. The sun grew and grew until it was impossibly large and it turned a deep scarlet, tinting the whole world in red. The color of blood. Aravis had heard enough tales of blood to last her a lifetime, and yet they still kept coming. The war and whatever else the world had to spit at them, hung over their heads like a raincloud. It was grey, imposing, and vaguely threatening because someday lightning might strike and destroy them all. Aravis shook her head to clear it. She couldn't think like this, living in a downward spiral. Some things were just going to remain horrible and she would just have to live with it. This truth was hard to swallow, like cod liver oil or cough syrup, slowly taking time to be digested.

"Okay," she muttered, speaking to an empty courtyard. She had deliberately removed herself from the New Year's celebration inside the castle. It was too dreary to remain in such a room, drafty even when crammed with people and politeness. Outside was better here with the stars and the glow of the party inside. She sighed and steeled herself in preparation to go back inside. Then she stopped, suddenly in thought. From where she stood Aravis watched the party. Inside the fun looked stilted; people stood talking (gossiping really) around couples dancing (because there was _always_ dancing, at once courtly and monotonous and therefore perfect for palace life). This was no way to spend her last night before the world ended. Aravis's mind darted to the celebrations outside castle walls, the villagers' boisterous celebrations of what was to them their last night on earth. Even as yellow-orange specks in the distance, their festivities looked more fun than any grand ceremony that the castle had to offer. Mind made up she stole one glance behind her than crept toward the castle wall. She stopped again, obstructed by another thought. _We have to keep home safe for them_ Cor had said. Aravis looked back through the huge glass windows, boasting to the world the opulence that had collected inside. A row of ladies twirled like so many mechanical ballerinas, and this action was answered by the stiff bows of their lordly partners. She couldn't remain here, not when she might never be able to escape it. Tonight was her last chance. She would make it up, if the world ending thing turned out to be a silly rumor. Aravis turned back to the castle wall and scaled it. It was hard, its worn bricks having smoothed by the Telemarines, so concerned about appearances. The smooth surface gave her barely any purchase so she practically had to claw her way up. Finally she reached the top and heard someone call to her.

"Hey, what are you doing?" the voice asked. Surprised by the question she scrambled down, slipping a little and landing in a heap outside the palace.

"Aravis?" Cor said dropping down next to her. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to scare you."

"Yeah." Aravis was sore, with a few scrapes, but at least nothing was broken.

"What were you doing, trying to get outside the castle?" Cor said, acting like this was a mad idea. In all fairness, it did have a tinge of insanity, for neither Cor or Aravis had set foot outside the castle since the war started, at least five years ago.

"I was just putting action to words," Aravis said a little miffed at his question. Cor was supposed to understand. "You know better than anyone that its time for a change."

"Yes, but we have to keep up the illusion. They'll know we're gone."

"Just forget about court, will you? Look at the stars!" Aravis looked up at the sky as she spoke, freedom finally sinking in. She drank in the night air like a person dying of thirst. The night air seemed to soak into her skin, giving her energy. Even the stars seemed brighter, twinkling in honor of their triumph.

"It does feel different to be out here, doesn't it?" Cor spoke, finally coming around to the idea. "But we'll have to get back. Soon." There was the sound of leeway. Cor's resolve was breaking and Aravis knew it. She seized her opportunity for persuasion.

"Of course, but first we'll go to the village New Year Festival," she said with a smile. And before Cor could object she was striding toward the crowds of people, clustered around the center of the village. Cor ran after her, just to keep up with her.

"Aravis, this is a bad idea," he said, trying in vain to make his small collar cover more of his face. "They'll know me on sight." But Aravis kept on walking and Cor had to follow, if only to keep her out of more mischief. They approached a booth selling masks for the ceremony. Aravis held a finger to her lips at the stunned expression from the vendor. Cor grabbed two masks and handed the vendor a gold coin. By the vendor's shocked face it was clear that Cor had overpaid, but Cor and Aravis had already left. Aravis pursed her lips in a gesture of disapproval as soon as she saw her mask.

"Really, Cor?" she said without any real annoyance. "I think this is a slight against my personality."

"Well" said Cor with a mischevious smile, fixing his own mask on top. The mask was a jester's face which boasted a long nose and a twisted smile, similar to the one Cor wore beneath it. "I thought a peacock would be fitting. Hey, at least it's sort of pretty and not grotesque like the one I've got on. I know girls like that sort of thing. Aravis had already put her mask on, but beneath it she stared at him, clearly unamused.

"Well I'd rather be a peacock than a fool!"

"Oh come on," Cor said with a laugh, knowing her well enough that the simple remark wouldn't placate her. He rushed ahead and this time it was Aravis who followed, taking in all the various street vendors and laughing friends. There was even dancing in the village square. Although, this dancing was filled with lively country dances where one had to jump and skip to keep up the pace. No one paid any mind to decorum here, smiling with unabashed joy. There were no words with double meanings or carefully selected phrases. Here was simple felicity on being alive, if only for one more night. Aravis liked the honesty of their celebrations, she could read everyone's emotions plain as plain, and even the few drunks swaying in the streets were a welcome sight. It spoke of a sloppiness that indicated actual breathing life, rather than the carefully modulated, languorous pace of palace life. Suddenly Aravis stopped and looked around for Cor. She had lost sight of him in the large crowd. All around her a sea of people seethed, tumbling and bursting forth with life. It was wonderful, but at the same time it made it extremely hard to find Cor.

"Cor!" Aravis called. She was not worried of him being discovered. She knew that many people would think she was exclaiming at something, rather than believe something as ludicrous as the prince was here crashing their celebrations. "Cor! Where are you?" Aravis received no answer. The loudness of the talking, laughing, shouting villagers maintained a loud thrum that her voice could not pierce. She waded through an infinite ocean of people, trying to spot Cor's golden hair or his jester mask. However, everyone's costumes seemed to contain a splash of gold and jester masks were especially popular this year. Not one of the bodies attached to the masks fit Cor. Aravis sat down on a low step leading into a shop. Then she caught sight of a low hanging wall, short enough to climb and high enough to see over the crowd. Aravis stood up, brushing herself off. If she could just get up there she could—.

"Aravis!" Cor's voice cut into her planning as he waded through the crowd toward her. "I thought that was you. We got separated because you were being slow."

"I was not!" Aravis protested. "You weren't admiring our surroundings enough. It's heaven being free, even if only for one night."

"Here, take my hand," Cor said. "We won't get separated again." Aravis took it, surprised at the ease at which he offered it. His fingers curled around hers like a promise. His grip was firm, but not too vicelike and she could feel the calluses that remained from his years in Arsheesh's hut and from various odd jobs around the castle. The roughness was a welcome respite against the eerie softness of the hands of the pampered lordlings, which Aravis danced with nightly. Their hands had been like new gloves, barely used and unsullied by "common chores". Cor's hands showed that he wasn't afraid to work, to look after himself. He was, down to his very fingertips, an honest, hard-working prince.

"Are you okay?" Cor asked for the second time that night. Aravis's silence unnerved him.

"Oh, I'm fine," Aravis said in an unusually soft tone. "Hey, can I say something? And do you promise not to laugh even if it sounds really stupid?"  
"That depends," Cor said with a smile. "I'll have to see how stupid it is first before I can gage my reaction."

"Do you think the world will end tonight?" Aravis blurted out. Cor was silent for a moment, slightly surprised. "I know it sounds dumb, but I've been thinking and it seems like it could happen. Like this would be the year."

"I don't know," Cor said, giving the question serious thought. He knew that underneath Aravis's dismissive tone there was an edge of fearful desperation. "It's sort of like wondering if the sun will rise tomorrow. There's no definite proof that it will. But it always does so people assume that it will."

"If there is a tomorrow we'll have to go back," Aravis said and then laughed a shaky little laugh. "I'm not sure which is the lesser evil." Aravis noticed that Cor had not let go of her hand. It was as if even now he realized that the warmth of a hand holding hers, the reassurance of his presence beside her, were as soothing as any piece of wisdom he could offer.

"You always wanted freedom, didn't you?" Cor said with a funny little smile, a knowing smile. He knew her history better than anyone, including her own family. "From rules and marrying ages. This must be quite a lot to sink back into."  
"Yeah, it is." Aravis spoke as if she had just now realized it for the first time. "And I can't change it. That's why it bugs me. The fact that it's the way things are and I've just got to suck it up and deal with it. It's not fair, but that doesn't really matter. The world keeps spinning and all around me people are moving on with their lives. It doesn't matter if I'm unhappy. The needs of one million courtiers are met, so at least that's okay." Aravis spoke the last part with more than a little bitterness.

"I know," said Cor because he did. He had been there right beside her all along. "But, hey, you matter. Just because everything's the way it is doesn't mean that you don't matter in the grand scheme of things. Without you, I probably never would have gotten to Narnia in the first place."  
"You would have," Aravis said as drearily as Puddleglum. "I just came along for the ride."  
"That's not true. Aslan put us together for a reason. It was our escape, after all." Our escape. The one concession she had made that first pushed them together. Then it had been them against the world. And now they stood, a united front, in the midst of so much celebration. Yes, it was true the world was turning and hours were passing them by. But for Cor and Aravis, their world had stopped, if only for a moment, so a girl who couldn't admit to being sad could catch her breath. In and out. The spinning resumed, so subtly that neither the prince nor the once-tarkheena noticed. And yet, Cor's hand remained and stayed there even until the year had ended. A cry went up among the villagers who had decided to ring in the New Year with raucous noisemakers, whistles, and horns. For a moment, the villagers waited breath held, but nothing came. A collective exhale rustled through the crowd and the celebrations resumed. This time, the villagers were not only celebrating the ending of one year and beginning of the next, they were also giving thanks to whatever deity they knew, for giving them another day to live. Aravis smiled at their gratefulness and their faith. They knew, without a single doubt, that the sun was going to rise tomorrow. Aravis let herself fill up with that certainty of a better chance for tomorrow that even the common street laborers were dancing to celebrate. For just one night she would be sure of waking up tomorrow and liking everything she saw. That somehow the war would turn to peace and the Telamarines would disappear as soon as they had appeared, back to the foreign land that no one knew anything about. Slowly, a drop of water fell down from the sky. It was followed by another and another until a nice little drizzle had started.

"The world didn't end," said Cor still beside her, their hands still linked. His bangs lay flat across his forehead because of the rain and he looked a little silly. But he was there. It began to well and truly rain now, the very sky unleashed its watery wrath on the people below.

"No," said Aravis thoughtfully glancing at the people around her, so unbelievably happy despite the war that everyone had to endure. She looked at the stars still twinkling above her, surrounded by inky darkness, though they were. A little rain got into her eyes but it didn't matter. Finally, it had happened the rain that she had been waiting for was set free to spill out on the solid world below. Farmers could grow their crops, peasants would get that much more water tonight. The threat had passed, and Aravis knew, as sure as the sun would rise, that tommorow would be all the better because of it. "It didn't."


	10. Hate

**Chapter 10: Hate**

**A/N: **Hey guess what? I've hit 10 chapters in this thing! The next 90 will be a piece of cake. :P And with that said, you guys are just too awesome. That's why I have to name names, so thank you to (in no specific order): TheLostHeroines of Olympus, penspot, Concetta, peppris, E arth. K id. T ree. H ugger, Anon, Darth Sanctus, hiddenhorcrux, Slayergirl, Calyn, and meira16. Whew! A lot of names, but thanks guys for favoriting, reviewing, and adding this story to your alert list! If I missed anyone, mention it in a review *hint, hint* :D and I'll thank you in the next chapter. **EDIT:** Oops my bad! The formatting got totally wonky, but I fixed it, so now you can read this chapter without wincing. :)

Cor was shaken awake. At first, he thought this was an emergency, and leapt up with adrenaline surging through his veins. However, when he looked over to see the person who had shaken him awake, expecting to see a sentry or an assailant, all he saw was Aravis. She looked smaller, somehow, perhaps because of her thin nightgown and the way she was slightly shivering or the way her wide fearful eyes belied the tight restraint of her mouth. And suddenly Cor knew, with a foresight he hadn't thought he possessed before now, that this wasn't an immediate emergency. It was a matter of preventing actions that would slowly seep into their lives like smoke, suddenly clouding everything and making it harder to function.

"Come with me," she said hurriedly walking to the door and waiting for Cor to follow. On soundless feet they crept down many hallways, twisting and turning, until they got to Aravis's room.

"Just look," she said in a barely audible voice. Cor was confused, but he knew that Aravis would not wake him up in the middle of the night for just anything.

"Okay," he said when they were inside. "What is it?" Wordlessly Aravis opened the window. At first Cor noticed nothing, but then he heard it. The "it" in question was a crackling noise, at which he stuck his head out the window. A huge bonfire was out in the small secluded garden outside in Aravis's window. Men, or more specifically Telamarines, were throwing things that looked like square logs that the orange flames lapped up greedily. _Wait_ Cor thought _Logs aren't square_. And then he saw it, the book that flew open into the fire, its pages splayed out like an open surrender. Another man hefted a large book, heavy and old by the looks of its leather cover, and Cor saw the gilt title on it glinting in the firelight. It said "history". For a moment, this didn't matter, the history part being uneccesary information, but suddenly the gravity of the situation sank down upon Cor, pulling him to Earth in a jumbled heap. Without any written accounts of history, all the Archenlanders would have to go on is mere words. The accounts would clash and there would be confusion, until, of course, the Telamarines provided everyone with a nice stable inaccurate account of what happened. They could say anything they wanted and no one would be able to dispute it.

"I'm going to save some of them," Aravis said. "I just thought you should know what's happening."

"What?" said Cor, his brain sluggishly trying to comprehend everything at once. It was almost as if his brain had reverted back to sleeping mode, thinking all this was a horrible nightmare. Only it wasn't. "No. You can't do that Aravis. You'll jeopardize-." But Aravis was already out the door as soundless as she had entered. He saw her striding down the hallway. Even from the back she looked determined. He took in the whole situation, from his place near the window he could hear the crackle of the fire and the pop of exploding logs that made up its foundation. Yet, the real fuel was the books. For a long moment Cor stood there, motionless as a statue, as everything rushed around him. It seemed to be some time before he actually moved, actually thought to rush after Aravis. Mere words, after all, would not stop her. Cor knew this very well, it had been ingrained into him after years of clashing with Aravis on a number of various insignificant issues. But now…Now her stubborn nature had overstepped the line. The Telamarines would not give her a sharp rebuke and take away her privileges. No, they were too quick with their daggers for that. He had to keep her safe. He was not sure when he had acquired this particular responsibility only that he had. And this was the thing that made him creep out after her and hide safely outside the doorway to the library. In his cursory glimpse inside he saw her talking with a Telamarine soldier, he could tell instantly by the uniform, but it didn't look heated. Instead of barging in and ruining what might be a pleasant discussion, Cor stayed a silent presence by the door.

"Oh I get lost so much," Aravis was saying in a breathy, vapid tone he had never heard her use. "This castle seems to be getting bigger and bigger."

"Take care you don't get lost again," the guard said gruffly, allowing her to be on her way. Clearly he had been slightly suspicious of her, but never really thought her a real threat. As this was just what Cor knew Aravis was going for, one corner of his mouth unfurled into a smile. It was an expression that might have been a real grin, had it been allowed it to grow up. Cor heard Aravis's footsteps and instead of instantly escaping, which would surely give them both up, fixed himself to lean nonchalantly near the entrance. He saw Aravis walk past him, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Whether she saw him, but didn't want to acknowledge him and allow their communication to be discovered, or she completely missed him Cor wasn't sure.

"Ah, your Highness," said a voice from over his left shoulder. The Telamarine soldier had left and in his place was evil incarnate. Caspian I, the conqueror, the leader of the Telamarines. "Up so late?" Cor's mouth couldn't form words. Well they could, but most of them were curses, and therefore likely to get him killed.

"Yes," he said laconically. Short, terse phrases were the best way to go. Then he would not have to think up lies, and then he would shorten the conversation. The deep brown eyes of his companion seemed to smolder with a darkness that radiated from his person. It was as if he yearned to conquer not only the world but all the people in it, and Cor was his next victim. In fact, it was very likely that he wished to conquer Cor, as Cor was the one who was unfortunate enough to hold a seat of power in a land that Caspian wanted.

"I would suggest, your Highness, to not place yourself in a position to overhear certain conversations," Caspian spoke with a sneer, his upper lip curling like a camel ready to spit. "You know what they say about eavesdroppers. That they deserve to be affected by any truth they might glean from what they overhear. Or any consequences that might come with that truth." Cor stepped back instinctively, at first it was because hatred seemed to reek off the man in front of him like a bad odor and then it was the shock to be spoken in such a threatening way. However this distance afforded him a glimpse under the man's cloak. It was quick, almost too meaningless to mention, had it not been for the flash of the light of the lamps on hard grey steel. Cor stepped back again, fixing his eyes on the man in front of him. They were not very far apart, only a few paces, yet from this distance he could see shadows emphasizing the grooves in Caspian's face. He looked withered, almost, as if the weather had beaten into him an understanding of the world, as though every storm carved into his soul, leaving its grey gloom behind. Cor was not a coward so when he turned his back on this man he was not running. No, Cor was saying, as silently as ever, that he would not let Caspian win because Cor would not give him the opportunity to strike. Taking the chance fate gave him, Cor walked away, his strides long and powerful. He did not go to Aravis, after this, instead like a zombie he climbed into bed and laid there for a while staring at the ceiling. After some time he went to sleep, and when he woke up the memory of this night poured over him like a bucket of ice water, he had the sudden experience of cold and then the chill of it seeping past the skin into the bones underneath. Cor knew this assassination attempt meant something, that the tides had turned, that Caspian was getting impatient, but chose not to deal with it. It was strange. His biggest fear was of an assassination. He had thought of it many times. A sudden ambush. An supposedly wide shot of an arrow. A duel to the death on the palace steps. Yet, now that it had happened Cor felt nothing, only the weight of the responsibility that came with being almost attacked. He would have to tell Aravis, simply because he told her almost everything and because, as one of the original members of court, the threat might move to her, too. For the longest time, however, Cor avoided this task. He had too much paperwork to do, he had to inspect this or that, he had to steal away to the library to check out a book. All were excuses, carefully crafted so he could slither out of his responsibilities without feeling guilty. _After all_ he thought _Getting nearly killed is hardly my fault. Why should I have to pay for it by adding yet another duty that I have to fulfill?_ So Cor skirted around the action, avoiding it as well as Aravis. He didn't see her so of course he had no opportunity to tell her. It was only when she tracked him down, in the room which had become his study, did he realize that Aravis would notice. Of course she would.

"I have a lot of work to do," he said dismissively, trying to wave her away, but his tone sunk down, leaden with the weight of things unsaid.  
"What's with you?" Aravis said waspishly. "I barely see you anymore and when I do you're like one of the other robots, all function and no person inside."  
"Like I said I'm busy," he said, shifting around a little. Aravis saw this, her eyes attune to his every movement. "So if you wouldn't mind..."  
"I'm not leaving," Aravis said, her tone still sharp. "Until you tell me what happened." Cor just looked at her as if he couldn't believe she was still there after all this, his expression world-weary. Neither of them said anything for a while. After a long time Cor broke the silence.

"I spoke with Caspian," he said his tone full of finality. That was it discussion ended, and why the heck else would you ask for more?  
"And?"

"He told me to keep my mind on my own business and not lurk in corridors," Cor's exhaustion had returned; he spoke as if every word too an enormous effort to come out of his mouth. "That's all." Cor looked at Aravis, she was staring as if she knew he wasn't telling her more. This time, he was determined not to break the silence. He stared stonily ahead and said nothing.

"Hmm," Aravis said lightly. "Well y'know I've never met Caspian, but if I fancy I did I don't think that's what he'd tell me. In fact I think he'd tell me something relating to the war, seeing as that's clearly a big issue." She was trying to get him to crack with her sarcasm, making the issue smaller than it was, but this time it wouldn't work. Aravis strode toward him and knocked on his forehead

"Hello? Is Cor in there? If I didn't know better I'd say the real you was carried away by the fairies" said Aravis breezily and still Cor neglected to respond. "Well, I guess you don't want to talk. That's okay, I really don't want to sit in silence with my oldest friend in the world, but I guess we don't always get what we want."

"I can't deal with you," the words were exhausted, but there was also, if one listened closely, the sharpness of pain beneath them, almost as if Cor really had been stabbed by that dagger. Aravis didn't listen to the tone underneath, however. All she heard were the surface words.

"What?" she said her eyes alighting with fury.

"I have work!" he said gruffly. "I told you, and you just sit here pestering me like a petulant four-year-old."

"What's your problem?" she asked louder now. "All I did was come in here, wanting to see if you were okay!"  
"Well maybe you shouldn't have!" Cor was close to shouting, now his last words seeming infinitely loud in Aravis's stunned silence at his sudden temper. "All I wanted was to be alone!"  
"Wish fulfilled," said Aravis acerbically as she left the room. Cor sighed running his fingers through his hair in agitation. He hadn't meant to do that. Sighing again he looked toward the heavens, it was going to be a long night. After finishing a couple of now meaningless documents he drifted off to bed. Surprisingly, this was not a restless night. Instead, Cor's sleep was weighted with foreboding, vague recollections of duels, the clash of swords, and above all the gore of the battlefield danced through Cor's mind. Despite all this, when morning came, along with it was Cor's good humor back from the cramped little attic of his thoughts. It was as if somewhere, stumbling through the darkness of his dreams, fear had lost its power over him. For once, the castle seemed almost cheery, bright sun pouring in through the windows.

One nursemaid was out with her charge, a chubby-cheeked toddler in one of the hallways that lined the palace courtyard. Cor smiled a little and watched the pair, nurse and child, remembering when he was that little. Apparently the little boy was close to taking his first steps. Yet, his little feet were clumsy, and brought him down even before he could stand up. The toddler sniffled a little at the impact of hitting ground and got up again. Slowly, but surely he stood up and dazzled the world around him with a joyful smile and burbling laugh. Cor watched the small cherubic boy take a step forward stumbling a little. Safe arms were placed on either side of him like a railing and the watchful eye of his nurse was fixed upon him. Yet, despite his previous failures (and from the toddler's previous wails Cor had heard earlier, they had been many) he took one step and another, conquering the land beneath him, as slowly but surely he learned to walk. Cor smiled at little at the toddler's success and turned away.

What had scared him most in the moment was Cor had almost called out for guards. He had realized, however, before the words could even take shape in his mouth, that most of the guards were Telamarines. It made Cor wonder, who was watching out for him? Where was the safety of those arms when he stumbled and fell, as he seemed to do so often these days? Questions like these floated around like ghosts in Cor's head. That was his problem; there were just the questions, bleak and transparent with no answers to settle them. The time it took to stop thinking these kinds of thoughts was indefinite. All Cor knew was that he was thinking less and less about his own failure and more about Aravis. He pictured the door that she had shut after she left, the sound short and clipped with finality. It was some dull color, sort of a grayish brown, briskly cutting off all communication between them. Cor sighed, picking himself out of the depths of self-pity. This wasn't going to work. Slowly he stood. It was hard at first because he knew what he was supposed to do and what he wanted to do. However, in the end he sucked it up and took one step forward and then another. Now, with a certainty born out sheer determination he strode forward—towards Aravis's room—with an apology on his lips. All it took was him willing to be a little bit better, a little bit stronger. Step by step he eliminated the distance between them, conquering his own demons bit by bit.


	11. Foreign

**A/N: **Forget writer's block. I had no idea where to go with this story. This was another one where I finish half the chapter and then decide that I don't like what I've written. So I cheated and changed the prompt and wrote a totally new chapter. Take that writers' block from heck (because this is still a K-rated story)! Btw, I always get asked the "Where are you from" question and I always think the answer is obvious because I look like the white American I am. Everyone ends up thinking I'm from Bosnia or somewhere in Eastern Europe, though. It's weird.

Song for this Chapter (because my brain went 80's): "Fortress Around Your Heart" by Sting.

**Chapter 11: Foreign**

"Where do you come from?"

Aravis had heard this phrase a thousand times, in varying degrees of snobbery or curiosity since she had first set foot in Archenland. Although Archenland and Calormene were separated by a desert, Aravis had always assumed the answer was obvious. However, night after night in the ballroom, she was accosted by those who were interested in her history, or arrogant lords and ladies searching for others to look down upon. Even after all these years she was still getting questions like this. It didn't annoy her so much as it exhausted her; it wasn't as if Calormene was incredibly far away after all.

It was interesting, she reflected, because even though Cor was Archenland born he had to do the same sort of explaining. In fact, it was when court life became a necessary evil that Aravis truly understood the value of their shared beginnings. While most Archenlanders or Narnians spoke of their childhood running around with Talking animals, Cor never really talked about his early years. She'd asked him about this once, and at the time he said that it wasn't the sort of thing people liked to hear. So he kept silent, only adding in the disclaimer that he was raised in a "foreign country". People liked to hear this. It made him seem worldly, as if by nearly twelve years in another country he was somehow better or more cultured than everyone else. Also any childhood struggles that he alluded to, were accounted for by this description. 'Oh poor thing' people would say 'He wasn't raised here, you know.' And suddenly Cor was someone who had become something out of nothing. And this was certainly true.

"Calormene," Aravis answered the question with a small tired smile, but found that another voice mingled with her own. She turned around to find Cor suddenly standing beside her. He was a new addition to this conversation with a nameless, faceless courtier—after seeing so many members of court milling about like ants on a daily basis, it was often hard to keep track of names—and the man looked shocked at Cor's reply.

"What I meant to say," Cor said starting in on his explaination. "Is that I was born here, but sent to Calormene for my own safety. It's a rather long story, but I spent most of my childhood in Calormene."

"I see," said the man who still looked rather confused. Clearly he was new and hadn't managed the trick of concealing emotion as well as the other courtiers. Aravis spared the man a pitying smile before she pondered Cor. After all, they were still fighting. Cor _had_ come to her room with an apology it was true, but Aravis had denied forgiveness. She had still been mad at him at the time. Now was a different story. In fact, she had almost forgotten about the argument as she had avoided Cor for so long. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign. _Probably bad,_ she thought as she caught Cor warily looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Would you please excuse me?" Aravis said with all the appearance of politeness. It was clear this conversation was going nowhere and the added appearance of Cor only worsened the situation.

"Wait," came a voice after her. Aravis turned to find Cor. What a huge surprise. Not. Aravis was still in the process of avoiding Cor so she rushed out of the room with Cor running after her.

"Just hear me out," Cor said. "I have a really good excuse for being an idiot, I swear." This made Aravis stop. This was not necessarily assent, but Cor gave the signal, one raised eyebrow and motioning towards the door. Cor walked outside and Aravis waited inside so their escape wouldn't seem overly suspicious. As if the gossip mill wouldn't overanalyze Aravis and Cor's heated exit from the ballroom. Twice was pushing it, Aravis knew, once was forgivable—a lapse in judgment. Hesitating for just a moment, before deciding she had let Cor stew in unforgiveness long enough, Aravis walked into the garden. She noticed that Cor looked decidedly nervous, pacing a little bit more than normal. When he saw Aravis he let out a long exhale and looked at her with a strange expression of determination.

"So?" Aravis asked, a little cross if only for the reason that his nervousness was making her more anxious than she wanted to admit. And without seeing any movement Cor was suddenly standing so close to her that when she turned to look at him she almost walked into him. Aravis looked up at Cor with some alarm. "What are you doing?"

"Telling you my excuse," Cor said as if it were perfectly natural to invade someone's personal space.

"Anyone would think that you were trying to make a move on me or something," Aravis muttered.

"Does the closeness make you nervous?" Cor asked and Aravis could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm surprised that's all it takes."

"What was your excuse?" Aravis said abrubtly changing the subject.

"I'm getting to that," Cor said and then continued in a tone scarcely above a whisper. "Caspian wants to kill me."

"What?" Aravis said, the smile falling off her face. She had expected Cor to make a joke about his foul mood, but this was something else entirely. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Cor said looking almost guilty. "That night in the library, he approached me and…I saw a knife under his cloak, but I was able to walk away unharmed. Look it's no big deal. I just y'know needed to tell you so that you knew." Aravis was slowly but surely comprehending the horrid truth. She thought back to Cor's previous actions, his avoidance and stony nature. To be honest, Aravis even felt sorry for him, to have to swallow a truth this big. _It must have been hard_ she thought.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not dead or injured so yeah," he said in a would-be casual voice. "Yeah, it's really nothing. I mean we knew they wanted me gone before, but—."

"Do you know what this means? If Caspian wants to kill you so badly that he'll do it himself…it means that this is a matter of the highest importance to the Telamarines. Normally lackeys or guards or someone are sent to do the dirty work, but if a wannabe king is going through with it…I don't like the way this looks."

"It's fine. I'm safe and so are you. We just have to be more careful about who we're with, use the buddy system and stuff like that."

"Don't just brush this off, Cor," Aravis said, fruitlessly searching for a plan. "It's obvious that whether we're here or not Archenland isn't going to be safe. We need to get out of here."

"Okay so we'll go inside," Cor said, sounding completely serious. Aravis squinted up at him in disbelief; she couldn't believe how he could be so cavalier about this. Then she thought back to the assassination attempt and how he hadn't told her, and suddenly she knew. Cor was scared. He was hardly invincible, so of course he had to succumb to the occasional weakness. However, Aravis couldn't remember a single time when she had seen Cor well and truly scared.

"It's not nothing to be assassinated you know," she said slowly, giving him a sideways look of pity, showing she was sympathetic and trying to gage his reaction at the same time. Cor just took another long deep breath, as though everything in the world made him tired.

"I know," he said finally. "But I don't think I can just sit here and have a little heart-to-heart conversation with you. I don't know what the heck I'm going to do." Even in the moonlight Aravis could tell that Cor's jaw was clenched, all the tension of almost being killed stored in one muscle.

"Then just sit," she said. And for a while that was all they did. It was just Aravis and Cor sitting in silence, because no words were needed. Then as if her hand had a life of its own, Aravis noticed that somehow her hand had made it's way to Cor's hand and linked their fingers together. Cor glanced at Aravis, but didn't speak or disentangle his hand from hers. The silence remained for a long while after, unmarred by awkwardness or lack of things to say. It was the sort of silence that only really good friends can have, the kind that don't need to communicate through words, only actions. Aravis had said all she needed to by slipping her hand into Cor's, and his only necessary response was not to pull away—to accept the forgiveness that she had offered.

...

"Miss?" came the voice of the shopkeeper, a rickety old man, bringing Aravis back to the present. That night was long gone now, and Archenland was long behind them. They resided in another village, another country, another almost home. Almost because Aravis was never sure which country she truly felt more attached to after she left it; it seemed she had left fond memories in every nook and cranny of the world and was only now recovering them. "If you don't mind me asking...where are you from?" The shopkeeper glanced at her and Cor in their ordinary clothing, but still looking out of place in this small village.

"Oh," Aravis said in response as she collected the goods that she had paid for, her smile as bland as her answer. "Not from around here."

"Ah, so you're foreigners," That was one way to put it. It was almost funny being a foreigner again in yet another country, hailing from a new exotic locale. Aravis felt as though her past had been scattered by the wind, leaking into every country until there was not a single one that she truly felt was home. Discarding both countries had always been difficult, each one meant so much more than she could express. And yet, the journey continued, the trek through countries stretched out almost as long as the many miles they covered. Borders blurred and new acquaintances were met again and again until Aravis couldn't tell whether they were moving towards something or just running away.


	12. Maps

**A/N:** Okay so I had Chapter 13 all written out and it was going to be Chapter 12. Then I realized (very belatedly, like after writing the whole thing :/) that it was in Aravis's perspective. I really didn't want to screw up the alternative POV thing that I've got going on. Writing this chapter without the encouragement of reviews was hard (and also because I really really wanted to post this story) but I did it! In the end it turned out really good for an inserted chapter, if I do say so myself. I know I've been posting these songs for what is going to be three chapters (as soon as I get Chapter 13 up), but I can't help it. I'm normally not a big fan of song fics (though I wouldn't consider this story one by any means), but there are just certain songs I listen to when I'm writing that my chapters end up becoming like. Or so I think... Anyways enjoy this chapter (and the immediate one to come)!

Song for this chapter (the music goes more than the lyrics): "White Blank Page" by Mumford and Sons.

**Chapter 12: Maps**

Cor fumbled with the many countries curled up in his arms. Suddenly the maps fell to the ground.

"Oh here," said Aravis, used to clumsiness, especially from Cor. "Let me help." She gathered up the maps and neatly placed them in Cor's arms.

"So do you get the plan?" he asked. It was more just something to say. They had already planned their quest in great detail, with alternate routes and knowledge of small villages.

"Yep, just go straight north until we look back and can't see any trace of Archenland or Telamarines."  
"Pretty much," said Cor. He was in the middle of a laugh when it caught in his throat. Telamarine soldiers were splashed across the marketplace they were about to enter. This was strange as they had mostly managed to avoid the Telamarines, though they had been very careful to travel through small villages. Now they figured, they could chance one small walk through a crowded market. They were wrong.

"Go back," whispered Aravis somewhere in the direction of his ear, pulling the hood of her cheap traveling cloak over her head. Slowly and very casually as if inspecting the maps and aimlessly walking, Aravis and Cor made their way out of sight of the Telamarines.

"What are we going to do?" said Aravis fear shining in her eyes, her tone high pitched. The danger was far too immediate to go through the business of pretending not to feel fear.

"We go back," Cor said. "We'll just travel through the small villages. It's better that we try to blend in there as the main roads will be cut off. But we can't go North. We have to go South. The Telamarines won't want to even make negotiations with Calormene's empire until they get more lands to the North. In the South we're protected.

"We can't go back to Calormene," Aravis said. "They'd boil us in hot oil as soon as they laid eyes on us. _We _are the reason for their failed invasion and Rabadash will remember that."  
"Not to Calormene, but to the Southern Provinces beyond Calormene. "We'll hide out in some villages, traveling if we need to. It'll be fine." The way through the villages was clear and untroubled. Most of them they got through in a day, sleeping on the side of the road when they could not find a family with shelter to spare. Their accommodations were modest at best. Cor didn't mind. In fact, all Cor could think of every minute of every day was getting away from the Telamarines. Some nights he would wake up in a cold sweat, alert yet exhausted from running from them in his dreams. Normally Aravis slept through his bouts of sleeplessness, sometimes the even tone of her soft breathing would lull him back to sleep. Tonight, though, Aravis was perched catlike on the edge of her sleeping bag. She started when she saw him sit up.

"You had me scared for a minute there," she said mildly. She was eerily calm, a calm that only staying awake for countless hours can bring. After a while you become resigned to the wakefulness, the thoughts keeping you up drift off and there is only empty space.

"Nightmare," Cor replied tersely, still catching his breath. Every inhale felt like a jab to his windpipe. Like he did every night, he slowly filled his lungs up with air, in and out slowing down the fast pace of his own breath.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "This happens. It's no big deal."  
"Oh, it does, does it?" Aravis asked, turning more towards Cor. Cor didn't like the way she was suddenly turned towards him. He knew that look. The information probing look she wore right before she obliterated him with questions.

"I can't remember them or anything of course," he said. "Don't you hate those kinds of dreams?"

"Uh-huh," said Aravis suspiciously. For a while they were silent, Aravis staring at Cor and Cor avoiding her gaze. Finally, he looked up and sighed.

"Okay. Fine. We both know I remember my dream. Let's just leave it at that."

"You're not okay, Cor," she said. So stop trying to pretend like everything's fine.  
"It is fine," Cor bit out; his tone suddenly turning to acid. Then it softened. "If I could get my mind in the right place I'm sure all this would stop."

"It's not like that," Aravis said. "You know it's not."  
"Look, I don't need you telling me what you think I'm going through. Okay? You don't know and let's leave it at that."  
"You're scared," Aravis still looked at Cor, though both her stare and her words were softened with concern. "It's okay to be scared." Cor exhaled sharply at this, propping up his forehead with his thumb and index finger. He looked heavenward and then turned his gaze to Aravis.

"I can't do this," he said very slowly and seriously. "I can't keep on running, always running. Whether it's to save the day or to escape for my life. I want to stop."  
"It's hard to be the stable one, isn't it?"

"I was never the stable one," Cor responded with a wry smile. "I was just the one who hid it better. That's all."  
"But you're not a fortress;, you don't have to be strong all the time."  
"And if I don't what's left? You saw what happened when we let our guard down, the Telamarines came in and we barely escaped with our lives. Again. I don't how many lucky breaks we have. And I'm so tired of all this."

"I know it's hard, but you can do it," Aravis said. "You've ran out in front of a lion for goodness sakes—you can be brave and strong and—."  
"But I have been brave," he said "And strong for a while now. It's just hard to have to sort this all out over and over. I don't constantly want to make escape plans. Do you realize that this is the exact same thing we did five years ago except then we had a _chance_. Now…I really don't know what's going to happen to us."  
"We'll be taken care of," Aravis said. "I'm just as scared as you are and I can say that without lying. Why would we get this far only to fail? We have to make it through."  
"Why?" Cor blurted out. Aravis looked shocked. Cor continued. "Really, what sort of powers of fate or logic decree that those who start a journey must always end it?"  
"I have a feeling about this," Aravis said.

"And _I_ had a feeling about Archenland. A good one," Cor said. "And look how horrible that turned out."

"Look no one said this was going to be easy-."

"But that's the thing! It hasn't been. And we've had to deal with it since day one. I just want to know why we have to keep relocating when _they're _the greedy ones. All we want is to keep some sense of a home."

"I don't know why," Aravis said slowly, clearly trying to calm Cor as best she could. "But we have to keep going. Please promise me that you'll keep trying." Cor let out a short sigh at her words.

"You know I will. But I don't see how I can do it for much longer," he said a little calmer now.

"It's just until the Southern Provinces. We'll be fine once it's over. This journey can't keep continuing forever."  
"It already has," said Cor laying back down on his side and facing away from Aravis, his sulky tone marring his previous concession to tranquility.

"We'll be home soon," Aravis murmured in a tone that would have been soothing, if it hadn't been tainted with the soft note of her own doubt. "We don't just carry all these maps to find our way towards somewhere. We keep them to find a way to return." Cor closed his eyes on his own sleeping bag and didn't respond. For a moment he let the words sink in, giving himself to the hope that they provided. Then he sighed. _The way things have been going we'd be lucky to make it out alive_, he thought. However, fate is never stable or certain. It is like a compass, spinning and twisting in a myriad of different directions; offering a multitude of changes for any one decision—a million ways things might have been. Cor knew that he could never chart his course by the past. It was only the future that he could direct himself towards, time and place stretching out before him like a blank page. He would have to draw from his own experience the countries, the oceans, the places marked with monsters. It seemed a lot to expect of him, but it was just emptiness, a blank sheet of parchment. Its only fault was being devoid of answers, and if anyone was guilty of that crime, Cor was. His only consolation was the easy sleep he settled into, peaceful and devoid of all thought. This time Cor went to sleep, his breathing easy, forgetting any mild dreams he'd had the moment he awoke. There was some hope in this, if only for the fact that he would be better rested tomorrow. For now, the compass of fate pointed them south. And Aravis and Cor, like the weary, experienced wanderers that were, followed its all-knowing direction. Way ahead of them, so far away that they could not see it, was their destination. The same sun that rose and fell on their own faces, touched the people in the Southern Provinces in a similar way. Cor felt the pull of this strange unseen nation like a magnet, his hope drawing towards him a place he'd never been filled with people he'd never met. There were so many intangible, invisible aspects of their destination that it was almost nice, constantly consulting that weathered sheet of parchment paper in his hands. For once, the map was a light, comforting weight he had to bear.


	13. Home

**A/N:**I have to admit I feel sort of bad about having sad chapters (don't worry it's still good). I ALWAYS finish 3/4 of the chapter in one sitting and come up with the ending later. My creative process annoys me sometimes... But it's finally finished which feels so good!

**EDIT:** This is what happens when I edit. I re-edit to realize that I've missed something. Don't you guys just love that? :) At least I don't sound like I'm texting this chapter to you, thank heavens, or so I hope.

Song for this chapter (which is AWESOME, btw)- "After all That it's Come to This" by Amos the transparent.

**Chapter 13: Home**

Aravis knew that Cor didn't understand why she didn't want to go through Calormene to get to the Southern Provinces. The conversation was burned into her brain despite her wish to forget it.

"Why is it such a big deal?" he asked not without a little gentleness smoothing his harsh words. "You grew up there after all. And so did I. Frankly, I want to see it."

"But you weren't _from_there," Aravis said. "It's different for me."

"_Why_ is it so different for you?" Cor wanted to know, clearly exasperated by Aravis's vague answers.

"Because you didn't leave things behind." And with that Aravis had fallen silent, not saying one more word on any subject. And yet, despite her vehement desire to avoid it, she was here, standing at the gates of Tashbaan. No one would recognize her, she knew. She wore a grey hooded cloak, over a simple blue dress, purchases in a country she could now only barely remember.

"I don't see why we had to come this way," Aravis murmured in annoyance. Burning bridges was only fun once you didn't return to said empty spaces after the burning. Then there was just desolation. A ghost of a future that might have been had things been different. But they weren't different, Aravis reminded herself. Her family was here, and had been here without her for years. Why did they matter so much _now_? It wasn't as if coming face to face with her father, the only true family she had left, was going to change things. She had tried that and it had ended up with crying in a stairwell. This was not a result she wanted to repeat. Definitely not.

"I know you didn't want to," Cor said in response. "But it's the quickest way." Aravis fell silent again, using her energy to stare at the open gates. They walked inside. The market was fairly similar, the same bustle of people, same noise, same range of smells—from spices, to perfume, to sewage. Only now she was a stranger here, the faces unrecognizable, having no hope of the guards saluting. No one was beholden to her status because she had none. And even though it was silly, though she had made the choice to leave, Aravis felt as if she had been forced into estrangement. After all her choices upon staying were grim—marrying a disgusting man and sacrificing all her dreams of freedom. Aravis's mouth went taut at how her neat, tidy place in this land was now gone. She had no home here; it had gone the way of her pretty title and seemingly lovely marriage. She hadn't realized she would be giving up that much. But knowingly given or not it was now gone. Here was a society of people—her people—and she knew none of them. Not a single one. Not even the Tarkheenas or Tarkhaans whose litters stopped the flow of traffic entirely.

"It's so different," said Aravis. "I don't think I would have recognized it."  
"I know," Cor replied, looking as if the awkwardness had finally sunk in. "I hadn't realized how many years have passed since we've been here."  
"It's like it's not our home anymore," blurted out Aravis. The thought had come unbidden and her lips had moved of their own accord. But Cor was only nodding in agreement.

"This is so weird," Cor said running his fingers through his hair nervously.

"Do you think that Calormene was always meant to be temporary? I was just born to be dissatisfied with royal life and you were born to father who was not your own. So maybe that means we were never meant to stay here."

"That's just overanalyzing things."  
"I know, but doesn't it just feel like we were so focused on getting out that we never looked back towards what we were leaving."  
"Neither of us was leaving behind good circumstances, though. It's tough to remember, but we made the right choice."  
"I never wanted to come back," Aravis said with a hint of desperation. "I knew this would happen. A city is a living, breathing thing. It's not going to stay put in the way that you left it."  
"But you wanted it to," Cor said and finally it seemed the right thing to say. Aravis's face changed from stormy despair to a mild melancholy over losing something that should have stayed the same forever.

"I did," Aravis sighed. "I just thought that for all the stupid, horrible times I had here one of the good times would hit me with some nostalgia. And then I'd be glad to be back. But it didn't happen. It doesn't matter anyway."

"It sucks," said Cor giving Aravis a wry smile. "Doesn't it?"  
"It really does," she said letting a sad little laugh spill out of her mouth.

"I never really have had fun here since I was really little, but I still keep thinking that maybe somehow it'll get better. Why do we always want the worst sort of situations to turn out better? I mean, it seems like stupid logic to me. But I suppose I can't talk."  
"The hope's still there, I guess," Cor said. "It'd be nice to have a second chance; to realize that all the bad stuff was just waiting to be outdone by the good stuff. But that never seems to happen as often as we'd like."  
"I forgot how awkward it is to be a stranger in your own country," Aravis said. "Like the real feeling. I had forgotten that and it's not so nice to remember it again."

"Hello stranger," Cor said with a smile. Aravis deigned a small smile and rolled her eyes. In a sea of awkward beginnings, Cor possessed the only familiar face. This thought at once thrilled her and frightened her. They had been pitted together by whatever powers of fate so naturally they had developed some feeling for one another. However, this dependency on one sole person was entirely new for Aravis. She wasn't sure if it was possible for him to be there as much as she needed him, especially in these troubled times.

"Anyway," Cor continued in a more serious vein. "Who says you have to feel nostalgia about every place you left behind? Sometimes you leave for a reason."

"Yeah I know," Aravis said. "Still, it would be nice not to be always traveling—always in the process of going to some far-off safe haven. We don't even know if such a place exists."  
"Look, I understand," Cor said. "Caspian almost _killed_me and we had to run like scared rats to another country. None of this is fair to us. But..at the same time, I'd rather be safe than dead and dignified. And I know you want to be sure of a safe place to run to. I can't promise that. All we can do now is hope."

"I am so _tired_ of hoping," said Aravis in a tight voice, an unwilling tear trickling down her cheek. She scrubbed her eyes absentmindedly. Still, even Aravis's iron will couldn't stop the tears that had been building.

"I know," replied Cor softly.

"This always happens," said Aravis thickly. "It's so stupid to cry like this. I knew it was going to be awful. And yet I _hoped_ for one second that it would be good. But it wasn't. That's what I get for coming home."

"It's going to be okay," said Cor, in that calm whispering way people have when they want to shush sadness. "Maybe it isn't now, but it'll turn out right."

"Right now I just can't believe you," Aravis said in a grim tone, her voice clogged with tears and snot—all the gross effects of crying. Aravis made to stood up trying to rid her face of the physical wear and tear of her short bout of sadness. "But you're right, we should probably get going. It would be better to be there sooner rather than later, after all."

"No, it's okay," Cor replied, as serious and good as ever. "We have time." And for a while Cor just let Aravis cry. Aravis knew that this was not because he was confused about what to do with this weeping girl on his hands, but because he knew that for now Aravis just needed to cry. After they had each said all that was to be spoken and shed their fill of tears (this was more on Aravis's part than Cor's), Cor got up offering Aravis a hand to pick her up as well. Even though he hadn't knocked her down, the world had and that was enough for him to help pick her up. And like a rainbow peeking through the clouds after a small storm, a smile spread across Aravis's face, wide and brilliant. It was not tugged out by some small wry joke, or used to shield her sorrow, or created by laughing at her mistakes; this smile was freely given.

"Thanks, replied Aravis, accepting the hand he held out for her. She savored the support just a little bit before releasing his hand. Oh sure, Aravis knew how to be her own bulwark in the face of struggle; she had done it many times. But it was nice, just a little, to have a warm hand pick you up at your lowest point and physically pull you out of sorrow. There was some comfort in that support that Aravis gloried in. Soon, she would have to face the world and her troubles all alone. But for now, for this one moment, it was nice to be able to rely on a hand, Cor's hand, to pick her up.


	14. Yin and Yang

**A/N: **I had writer's block so bad it wasn't even funny. Anyway this prompt and probably the next couple of prompts will be kind of weird. I stole this 100 Word Challenge from an Avatar: The Last Airbender forum so the prompts mostly relate to that fandom rather than this one. However, it just challenges me more to try and relate them to this fandom!

Songs for this chapter (There's two because it took SO LONG to write): "Little Pieces" by Parlour Steps and "Falling" by Florence and the Machine. I know I already used the "Little Pieces" song for my Pocahontas story, but I doubt any of you read that one because it's a strange and crazy fandom. :D

**Chapter 14: Yin and Yang**

Cor knew he had a darkness about him. It was not, he reflected, the darkness a prince—let alone a future king—should have. Yet, there it was. It had taken a long time for him to realize that Aravis could not see it. Though she reminded him of his faults daily, she seemed to accept him as wholly good. But he was not. So it would serve that he was not immune to hate; the roiling, curling emotion that caused an angry twitch to galvanize his jaw muscles as a result of the constant set of his teeth. It was this deep obsidian hatred that forged new lines into his soul, but though it was all-encompassing the hatred was by no means absolute.

"If you would just stop thinking about it…" Aravis said tentatively, though very little she did with Cor was tentative. "Maybe you would stop feeling as bad as you do." Cor made a dismissive noise that sounded like a close cousin to a snort.

"That would be the day. They_ ruined _my life. It's not like they left yours untouched either. And no matter how much they destroy and conquer, we're the ones who pay dearly."

"If Caspian didn't try and assassinate you we'd be stuck there," Aravis said. "Stuck in that sticky web of lies and politeness that they wove around our home. Why mourn that loss? There was nothing we could have done." Cor knew that Aravis's statement was composed of thoughts that she wanted to become beliefs, rather than how she actually contemplated the world. Aravis wanted to cut off all ties to something that was irrevocably lost, but still the attachment remained. So Cor knew she understood more than she let on. But the annoyance that came from these happy-go-lucky statements was not lost on him because of this fact.

"Oh come on, Aravis. I know you don't mean a word of that."

"So I don't. But I'm trying to help you," she said in the tone of one who was properly peeved at being found out. Then Aravis continued in a softer tone. "Even if I don't know the answers I can at least tell you what I think is right."

"Well you're not," Cor replied tersely, his mood still soured by anger.

"Fine, but you've got to know something," Aravis said and then looked at Cor, her tone turning grave with real advice. "Conquerors like Caspian get you by hate. They play upon your own darkness, and make you see that they have a corresponding shadow, a matching hatred in their own souls. And once they at get that, you have a similarity; you are theirs. Because nothing brings people together so much as a unified sense of spite." Aravis turned over to sleep after her advice, her own words having no affect on her. Cor, however, rolled on his back and looked up at the few stars studding the deep indigo sky, thinking about Aravis's honest advice.

It was a roadside night, where Cor and Aravis made a small camp, tacking up a tent if it rained, forsaking such a practice if it didn't. There was getting to be a lot of those nights now. The villagers were either stretched tight with space out of poverty or their hospitality was stretched by their suspicions about mysterious travelers.

Roadside nights were never too much of a hardship for Cor. Like Aravis, he secretly treasured the freedom that the open space provided. It also reminded him of the early days, the ones where it was just them, the horses, and a journey. Tonight, however, the night seemed to elongate itself into emptiness around him. Cor could hear the sound of the whistling wind all around him and the faint rustling noises of animals moving about or dust settling.

"Why should I have to forgive him?" Cor muttered the question under his breath. "Evil warlords are given far too much leniency nowadays." The threat of a long-awaited untimely end was not enough for Cor. He wanted to stop Caspian right in his tracks, to make the conqueror drop his weapons and run just like Cor himself was forced to. However, to do that Cor needed his life, but his safety was not at all assured in the company of Caspian. Cor wanted to rush in and duel to the death with Caspian, really he did. Only he knew he had to keep his life for more than himself. Thousands of people were counting on him, to keep continuing, to lead the kingdom, to return home with all his appendages intact. He knew that he had deserted his subjects at the threat of assassination and that did not sit well with him. The only thing that was keeping him from turning back and facing the danger like an idiotic hero was the fact that he had to be alive to help his people. It was as simple as that. So who cared what happened to him? As long as he was alive that's all people would ever know. Any other details of his unhappiness were meaningless. Aravis heard Cor's rustling and sat up.

"Cor? You okay?" Cor heard the concern in her tone and smirked into his sleeping bag. It was not a mean expression, more of a wry amusement at the fact that Aravis believed he could spill his guts at the slightest provocation. This was a matter buried with the intricate corners of his soul, of his heart. He wasn't going to let it go that easily. So instead Cor was silent, taking the stance that maybe if she didn't hear a response, she would assume he had gone to sleep.

"I know you think I don't understand, but I do," she said still talking to Cor's back. "You're scared…and you don't want to run from him. But the whole attempted murder thing? It just proves his weakness, not yours. He has to gain his power through manipulation. But the people love you."  
"It doesn't matter," Cor said sitting up now. "All they want is me back in one piece so that I can rule."  
"It _does_, though," replied Aravis. "Your people care about you. That's what I was saying. Caspian could die tomorrow and they wouldn't think anything of it."  
"Whatever," Cor said. "It's not like things are going to change. It's just going to be this constant zero sum game. No one wins in a war like this."  
"Okay, you're unhappy with the way things are and mad at Caspian. I get it," Aravis said. "But why do you put yourself through this? Why do you tell yourself that people don't care? We care even if you can't see that, Cor." Cor took a breath to refute her but he just didn't have any more venom within him. Just a recollection that the bitterness he had felt was a shell hard on the outside, yet easily dissolved, by the right person. Cor looked at Aravis, really looked at her for perhaps the first time in forever.

"I don't like to run. Not all the time. Archenland was well…For the first time I…had a family. It's different when it's real. And then they took it all away. It shouldn't matter because it's over, but I _tried_ to live with them. Tried even though I knew they were evil. And then with the whole assassination attempt. It's the straw that broke the camel's back. I thought there was no possible way they could make life worse. And then they struck again. And again. It's like they're greedy even in their anger," Cor spoke softly, looking everywhere but Aravis. However when he finished he fixed his eyes on hers, just to see her final reaction. Her face was full of empathy because she had gone through it too; it had, after all, been _their_ escape. So of course they would be partners in sorrow when it failed. Both of them had reasons for staying in Archenland, reasons made meaningless by the actions of the Telamarines.

"I'm sorry," Aravis replied. "That's hardly enough, but that's really all I can say. I wanted it just as much as you did."

"I know," said Cor, soft and punctuated by a deep, shuddering breath. He sat hunched over his knees, his terse manner caused by the emotions he could not show. His posture belied the stoic, scrunched expression on his face. As always, there was more to be said, but it was in his tense fisted fingers, and the set of his mouth. Aravis responded to this cry for help slowly inching forward. Her fingers lightly grazed Cor's back, almost a pretense of touch, as she tried to rub away all the hate. It was another tentative motion. Cor thought the reason behind the hesitancy was because she half expected him to recoil from her touch. But he stayed still. Slowly but surely, his breath came out slower, gentler. His muscles melted out of their cement hard mold of anger and restraint. Aravis pulled away first; she could feel the tension in his back drain away. This was broaching the lines of friendship; handholding could be explained away, but this? It was almost too close for comfort. So nothing was said by either Cor or Aravis to break the spell of too-close actions that could almost be construed as friendship. On Cor's part the silence was a cloak over actions that could not be spoken of, any more than the feelings that rolled around inside his soul. He was not averse to Aravis's touch by any means, but of what came after. The feeling of being too much, of putting too much into something when you were not sure what was going to be taken away next. Cor was not afraid of caring; his capability for feeling was very great. However, after all the other losses sustained this year he couldn't imagine losing one of the only people he had left. A shared past was hard to come by. Though the lives of so many had been splintered by the war, the wandering feeling of bits of memories left in other places, was shared by only Aravis. And he couldn't lose her. He snuck a glance at her. She was in his previous position, laying down and staring at the stars. He mimicked her and stared at the inky blackness above. _Just friends_, he thought. If they were anything else she could be lost, too. She would be lost along with a father, brother, countries, and almost a life. But he had kept that last one out of sheer luck. The world was too capricious, and from experience Cor knew that you could only put into things what you were prepared to lose. Because in the morning those things might be gone, and everything that you had put into them would be gone, too. So Cor turned on to his side with closed lips, saying nothing—not even a word of thanks—to the girl at his side; the tentative girl, who had been waiting for some sort of a sign, some reassurance that he was okay, that he didn't hate her awkward attempt to comfort him. That was the thing about the sense of touch, there was always a reaction. Someone would reach out their hand and then there would be the _feeling_. And just right then Cor felt all too much; too much to restrain, too much to explain away, and certainly too much to lose.


	15. Earth

**A/N:** Okay I know this is silly, but sometimes I wish I was a character in my stories. And then I remember that they have murderous Telemarines after them and I don't feel so bad about my life. I know this chapter is too short after such a long wait. But I was in such a writing FUNK between AP testing practice and major research papers! :P But I can almost taste graduation so it's a sort of love-hate relationship with the end of the year. Anyway without further ado (excepting, of course, the song for this chapter) here is Chapter 15!

**Edit:** Grammar mistakes ahoy! Or was it grammar? I added a couple of a's to my sentences that were lacking and changed some words around to match the tense of the overall chapter. Don't you love when I read through my chapters? :)

Song(s) for this Chapter: It's got to be a tie between "First Floor Generator" and "Broken Horses" by Freelance Whales.

**Chapter 15: Earth **

Aravis woke up with her face pressed against the ground. When she lifted it up she felt that it was caked with a lovely layer of dirt. It was a rather inauspicious start to yet another long day of traveling. It was true, living out on the road had forced her to become accustomed to dirt; she felt its presence sully her hair and it garnished the space of skin under her fingernails. This bout of dirtiness was the last straw, however; one could hardly object to a sprinkling of the elements, but to be thoroughly caked in them? It was just too much. But why incur the wrath of whatever forces of nature wanted to hinder her? So instead of cursing loudly, waking up Cor, and startling any passing villagers, she flipped herself over and began scrubbing at her face. She was about to rouse Cor when she remembered what happened last night. She felt like cursing all over again. What the heck did his silence mean? Obviously it wasn't good, but how bad was it? Was it a "you-weirded-me-out-by-the-whole-getting-too-close-too-soon-but-we-can-still-be-friends" sort of bad? Or was it a "this-whole-relationship-was-in-your-head-and-I'm-leaving" sort of bad? Well, Aravis supposed, if he wanted to be gone he'd probably be gone by now. Unless, that is, he was waiting until they reached the Southern Provinces to get up and leave. Only where would he go? This world was big enough for the both of them, but it would be a very lonely place without Cor. Sighing a little and shaking the unwanted thoughts away from her mind, Aravis lightly nudged Cor to wake him. He stirred, rolling over onto his back.

"Hey, Cor wake up," she said ungraciously. Well he did leave her with no answer so it was his own fault if he got a less than warm response. Even an outright refusal would have been better than toying with a lingering doubt when she didn't have to. When Aravis saw Cor was awake and could form coherent thoughts she continued. "I need to get to a river or some water to wash. I can't take the dust anymore."

"Okay," said Cor with a nonchalant shrug. There was no awkwardness, not much of anything really. In fact, this made it harder to decipher Cor's thoughts. He was behaving so…well normal. It was as if the whole incident had never happened. Aravis wished that he would just come out and say whatever was on his mind. Now his normality was forcing her to be normal too.

"Thanks," she said, awkward in this seemingly familiar and yet all-too polite conversation. She breathed an inaudible sigh. This was not the reaction she had in mind for Cor. It was of the more "Gee, I just realized that I think we should be more than friends" variety. That apparently was not happening. Aravis grimaced. They started packing up their meager belongings. Unlike all the thousands of times they seemed to have completed this mundane task, this time their actions were shrouded in silence. Aravis knew that they both could feel the lack of conversation stretching between them, widening the space they would have to cross for some sort of understanding. She definitely didn't understand Cor anymore. It was foolish to assume that they were anything else but friends and somehow that made her feel anything but friendly towards him.

Eventually after slugglishly packing and much confused wandering they were able to find a stream. Without really thinking, Aravis dunked her head in. As water gushed in her ears she felt peaceful—away from external and internal noise, that of the environment around her and of her own thoughts. She lifted her head out of the stream and splashed herself a little and noticed Cor was staring.

"What?" she said annoyed that he was pretending to care again, and knowing that if he continued she would doubtless fall under his spell.

"Nothing," Cor responded turning away to stare at some suddenly interesting bit of landscape.

_That's all it was_, Aravis reminded herself, _nothing—an act, pretending to be something that he never was and never would be_. The question is why? Why if he didn't genuinely care for her would he play like he did? But maybe she was reading too much into this. Aravis shook her head, to clear it more than to dry her wet hair plastered to her scalp.

Aravis's bad mood persisted throughout their journey through the small village and its even smaller marketplace. What's more it seemed that there were couples all around her. Lovers clasped hands near the meat stall, another pair embraced by the clothing stall. A husband and wife shared a kiss over their small daughter. Aravis's annoyance boiled up in her stomach. Was it mating season already? It wasn't even spring and already couples were paired together all throughout this dinky little village. She wanted to flop herself onto her bed and forget this journey ever happened, but she didn't posses a bed anymore. All she had was a pathetic excuse for a sleeping bag, which was hardly good enough for throwing herself on to forget her troubles.

"So," Cor said his voice raspy. _Probably from disuse_, Aravis thought with a wry smile—the only sort of smile she could muster up in this type of mood. "We're halfway there. The next couple of villages should be pretty easy. We've got this runaway thing down." Aravis flashed Cor a brittle smile. So _now_ he wanted to be all nice and friendly? Well he certainly had another thing coming.

"Are you okay?" Cor's tone was hesitant, as if he knew what was wrong already but didn't want to say it. "You seem…weirder than normal, I guess."

"Thanks," Aravis said with a sour expression.

"I didn't mean it like that," Cor said trying to dig himself out of the trench of Aravis's disfavor.

"Okay," said Aravis nonchalantly, but she was clearly not mollified.

"Seriously, you're good?" he asked almost wincing in preparation for her harsh answer.

"I'd be better if you stopped asking such dumb questions," Aravis said without really looking at Cor for more than a moment, and that only with her old haughtiness—like he was a mere insect. What did he want her to say anyway? That she was perfectly fine with the way things were? Well she wasn't and it was his fault. His fault for not saying…well anything. She _knew_ him, really knew him better than anyone even his own family. And yet to be just friends? Aravis would not let herself settle for that slim bit of happiness. She_ could_ let herself be involved, but no… That hope had flown right out the window, disappearing into the empty night like an insubstantial breeze, warm but temporary. That was no longer an option. How dreary, how technical that sounded. That the mere phrase was all they had become. And yet, it was the truth; there was no chance of anything more. Not as long as Cor kept up his—just what was it exactly? His fake ignorance, curdling the friendship between them until all that was left was a mottled rancor.

They kept walking in silence. After Aravis's response what, really, was left to say? She clearly wanted to sever ties with him. That was it then. A friendship that had lasted years was now being tossed into the trash. Now there was loyalty for you. But Aravis had feelings, too. The sense of touch was not limited to just one person; it was about connection. And Cor had broken it, not necessarily beyond repair, but beyond a short-term, temporary gloss under which the real truth lay. Honesty was all that was left. Aravis was honestly upset with Cor and Cor all-too honestly wanted to just remain friends. The truth was cold and unnerving, but there it was. Aravis could feel the ground, the earth in between her toes. It was dry, not cracked yet, but things still allowing room for growth. There was some compromise, some give and take available in the soil beneath their feet.

"Do you want to camp here for tonight?" Aravis asked in a normal tone. Not angry or upset, just bland because it was a banal decision to be made.

"Here is just as good a place as any," answered Cor genially. He wasn't about to send Aravis back into grouchiness. So for now it was a truce, a compromise. An unspoken agreement that this anger would not last forever. It would not all be instantly resolved overnight, certainly, but there were some nutrients, some roots of hope in the soil now. There was foundation for growth.


	16. Heirlooms

**A/N: **So heirlooms are really hard to write about of for guys, just so you all know. But it's just a way to test my writings skills, right? And on a totally random side note... even numbers are awesome. I really think that's why I liked writing this prompt so much, that and the actual prompt itself. :) I know the quote is kind of cheesy but it fit so well with this chapter that I couldn't resist!

Song for this chapter (my new favorite): "Nothing Better" by The Postal Service

**Chapter 16: Heirlooms**

_"The past isn't dead. It isn't even past." William Faulkner_

There is something strange about an object passed down from generation to generation. With each pair of hands it begins a new journey, borrowing some sort of essence from each person whose life it has touched and forming a personality of its own creation. With this sense of life, there is a sense of age, a wisdom that ordinary objects cannot possess. Cor, who had only known his family for a small space of years, had no heirlooms to speak of. This was not a hardship. Boys his age normally didn't or had passed them down or outgrew them if they had. Yet now, as a traveler with hardly a square patch of earth to truly call his own, he wished he had taken something, anything that belonged to his father or brother. Something tangible—more than the hazy memories that he was left with in their abscence. But there was nothing.

"I could have taken something," he said out loud to Aravis, but it was different. His own voice seemed to ring too loud in his ears.

"What do you mean?" she asked. This must have been one of their peaceful moments, for they weren't awkward or angry. They simply sat there together in conversation, unruffled by any past actions that lay between them.

"I should have taken something," he explained his words choppy and hard to force out of his mouth. It was a long time since they had talked like this. "From my father. Or Corin."

"Why?" she asked. Once Aravis would have known the answer to this question just by looking at him. But Cor had kept his own counsel for a long time. Too long to foster the ready-made understanding that he expected.

"I don't know," he said dismissively. He did know.

"Oh," said Aravis. "I thought it was because you missed them." They didn't say anything for a while after that.

"I'm not that I've given this a fair shake," he said finally. "What I mean to say is...You—we should be more than just friends."

"I was hoping you'd say that," said Aravis calmly as her face broke into a self satisfied smile.

"We _should _be," Cor said. "But..We're in the middle of a war. Everything is harder and—well what I'm trying to say is—"

"You would miss me too," Aravis finished. "And I have nothing for you to take to remember me by."

"Well, yes," said Cor, surprised that he was saying the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He realized in the back of his head that Aravis should be angry at him, that she wasn't being herself somehow. So Cor was still confused when he continued. "This should be different. I would never say this in real life." Aravis just stared at him in a weirdly intense way, an action he remembered her doing from what seemed like another lifetime.

"But this is real life," she said slowly, still staring. And then he woke up.

Cor's eyes popped open as they used to in the aftermath of his nightmares. But that dream wasn't a nightmare; there was no endless running, no fear. It just was a conversation that never happened. Lately Aravis's anger had cooled, freezing over into a starched politeness that Cor mimicked out of neccesity. Occasionally, they would crack out of their ordinary molds of manners and laugh together as if they never had gotten too close in the first place. But somehow reality would catch up with them and they would remember the layers of space between them.

He rolled over and looked at Aravis, sleeping on a nearby pallet on the floor. They were in another kind stranger's home, resting on straw mats on the floor. Silently, Cor sat up, being careful not to disturb Aravis. He didn't need her angry at him again, after all.

"Bad dream?" Aravis asked stretching and rolling over in a world-weary sort of way. She did, it was true, know Cor's habits better than almost anyone.

"No, just strange," he said pausing before he continued. "It was about you."

"Me?" Aravis said quietly, a note of surprise in her voice.

"Yeah, we just talked. I was saying—saying how I wished I'd taken something from the castle. Something to remember everyone by."

"Oh," Aravis said her voice taking on a note of hesitancy. "That's funny then."  
"Why?" asked Cor, looking directly at Aravis, genuinely curious in a way he hadn't been for just anything.

"I took something," she said soft at first and then strong and dismissive. "When we left. It was no big deal, really. I remember I looked in someone's old room—I think it was your father's—and I just took the first thing I saw. Not to steal or anything, but more to…keep it safe with us. Wherever we ended up. It's not very big so don't get too excited." Aravis rummaged around in her bag and set a ring down on the table. She was right, the ring was small and fairly unassuming. It was made of white gold, a soft colored precious metal. The jewel inside the ring was hard to describe, almost looking clear in the darkness, yet as soon as Cor held it to the light he could tell it was a faint amber color.

"You can keep it," Aravis said. "It's nearly yours anyway."

"Thanks," Cor said sliding the ring onto his finger as if trying it on. After a moment, however, he removed it. "But it would attract too much attention if I wore it."

"At least you have it now," said Aravis. "I meant to give it to you, really. It's sort of easy to forget about."

"I guess," said Cor inspecting the ring like the valuable treasure it was, not because of any of the precious materials that comprised it but because of what it stood for—a link to Cor's father. "Now I have something to return when all this is over." His doubt at the war being over at all seeping into his light tone more than he liked.

"And we can go home," Aravis smiled the curve of her mouth contrasting with the reluctance of her eyes.

"Yeah," said Cor swallowing hard out of guilt when he thought of it. "Home." After that Cor slept fitfully, his head filled with dreams that he couldn't remember when he woke up. So this was perhaps the reason why he was late to breakfast and squinting at the light. The family graciously gave them what little they had. Surprised at their continued kindness Cor could only mutter his thanks.

"It's no problem," said the mother, cutting in half the small portions that were usually reserved for just herself and her daughter. "We have enough." Aravis and Cor exchanged a concerned glance. The villages just kept getting poorer and poorer, mostly because they had strayed so far from the city. Cor and Aravis ate what they were served with gusto and thanked the woman and her daughter again for hosting them. On the way out Cor, clumsy as usual, dropped his rucksack. The ring shiny and clear rolled out, close to disappearing beneath the porch of the villagers' rickety wooden house. At the last second Cor snatched it up and gently placed it in his sack.

"Too important to lose, huh?" the daughter asked softly handing him the maps that had fallen out of his bag. My brother had something of the sort, from our father. She pulled out a dagger. "He went to fight in the war and we haven't heard from him since. My father died in that war fighting against the Telamarines."

"I'm sorry," said Cor, uncomfortable with the subject.

"Well you know that," she said quickly wrapping up the subject at his uneasiness. "You're on the run from the draft, right?"

"Draft?" Cor asked hoarsely.  
"The Telamarines started drafting Northerners, up in Narnia and the like. You haven't heard?" she asked cocking her head slightly in confusion. "They have to have a huge army to fend off Calormene." At her words all Cor could hear was the wooshing of wind past his ears. _His_ people enlisted into fighting a war that was destroying their country. Cor couldn't remember saying goodbye to the family or walking out. All he knew was somehow he was back on the road and Aravis was staring at him. His mouth didn't seem to be able form the words to tell her.

"I have to get back," he said woodenly. "Back home."

**A/N #2: For those of you who think Cor is being _super_ wishy-washy about his decision to leave, don't worry! His actions will be explained in the next chapter...**


	17. Memory

**A/N:** I have mixed feelings about this chapter. Mainly because the writing process was long and excruciatingly wonderful. :) Oh and I want to make this abundantly clear: This story is not over yet! I know it's all mushy and sentimental, but trust me Cor and Aravis have a lot more to go through. Plus this is a 100 word challenge, which I am ideally going to finish and have 100 of all my prompts done. Good luck, me. :P

Song for this chapter: Gah there were too many, but I feel obliged to tell you guys that the main one was "All Good Things" by Nelly Furtado because I just _had _to keep replaying it.

**Chapter 17: Memory**

"After all…what is the past but what we choose to remember?"

-Amy Tan

The thoughts came incessantly like ever-expanding bubbles, gently bouncing around the corners of her head. _You know what separates us from them, don't you Aravis?_ Her father's voice asked her. _We know better than that. _We _know what's good for them_. At some point she had asked what exactly was good for them, the ordinary citizens of Calormene to which her father was referring. _It's your rule. Only under a firm hand can a household or a country truly be established_. And yet Cor had opened his hand and shook Archenland out, leaving it to fly into the vicelike grip of the Telamarines. Once they had something they would not give it back. Not without a fight. That was something that neither of them had prepared for. Well, Cor had, in a sense. But both of them knew that _studying_ war and fighting a war were two different things. Aravis had heard war stories peppered all throughout her childhood with honor and glory of the Calormenes, who always fought valiantly. After all, to Calormenes, storytelling was an art. They used it and often to their advantage.

"_What is war really like?"_ she had asked his brother when he was still a little weathered from his first battle. Aravis's brother didn't buy into the practice of storytelling, where stories became as real as the actual history of the event. All he told was the truth.

"_It's different_," he said, hesitating, wondering how much he should protect from his little sister's innocent ears._ "I'm not sure if I understand it yet." _She had asked him what he meant by that and he continued, still not wanting to reveal too much about the horrors of the world_. "War is…chaotic. Everyone is rushing at you and you're still checking that all your armor is intact and you haven't lost any necessary appendages while trying to fight some supposed enemy from a nation you've never heard of._

"_But of course they are our enemies," _she had said eleven, and sure of all the things she knew.

"_The problem with war is not all of the people we fight are bad. A lot of them are like us. The same sort of people. But they have a job to do, just as much as we do. It is our job to defend our country, even if that means killing someone in the process. So we do it._ Aravis understood many things, even at ten. But in her mind war was more synonymous with glory or fame, not with death. She knew that this generally resulted from wars, but receiving awards for bravery or cunning seemed to happen far more than casualties. At least, that is, it did in the stories.

_Why do you speak so much of death? That's not how war is supposed to go, she wondered aloud._

_Stories don't always tell everything, Aravis_ _he replied, his expression stony and faraway._ It was the last time they had spoken of anything of note, before he was defeated, by the same enemies that he had almost agreed with. Now at seventeen Aravis was confused about her stance on the whole war. Yes, the Telamarines were wrong, evil even. But how many were just doing this, the whole fighting thing, just to get by?

"Do you think any of the Telamarines are innocent?" she said, turning to Cor who was planning how they would re-enter Archenland. At first Cor was disinterested, not looking up from the parchment on which he was thinking. Then her words reached him.

"You heard what that girl said. Her father died in that war; they killed him—a good man. And then drafting Northerners? You know they're putting them in the front lines. There is no one among them that is good."  
"But you don't know them," Aravis said. "I know Caspian is unforgivable, but...I don't know if all of them are the same."  
"Any sort of people who let themselves be led by sadist like him are not the sort I can waste my sympathy on," said Cor, getting slightly annoyed at Aravis's reluctance to see everything that was right in front of her.

"People aren't always so cut and dry as you make them out to be. You know a man like Caspian would just seize control and suck the life out of our country. Not all of the men who follow him are loyal to him or even remotely similar," Aravis said shaking her head.

"That's nice to think," Cor replied with a great deal of exasperation. "But we're planning an invasion. Like it or not those men will have to die. And we will have to risk our lives for our country. It is hard enough for me to go in there alone but I will if I have to. Are you still in?"  
"I don't want to stand and watch them destroy our home either, but there must be some other way we could-."  
"I thought there was," Cor said sharply. "I thought that we could wait it out and somehow Archenland would be okay, but we don't have that luxury. Not while people are dying. I've tried to solve this without fighting, believe me I have. You think I want this? I don't. But if I'm supposed to be king I've got to make sacrifices. That's what this is. We know we have no chance. But we're going to go in there anyway because anything is better than seeing them die and villages starve because we can't do anything about it."  
"This is the South, Cor," said Aravis slowly as if Cor was incredibly stupid which he probably was changing his mind and then charging in to see psychopathic Caspian without a hint of a plan. "It's technically Calormene's domain."

"And who do you think is cutting off Calormene's supplies?" Cor asked darkly. "Calormene may only be working against them out of self preservation, but as long as they keep them off…they're still helping us. The Telamarines, however, are helping no one but themselves." Aravis stood there taking it all in. For once, her country was on the good side. Arguing against them would do no good. But then there was Cor. Strong and stupid and bumbling and incredibly good-hearted Cor. They were still friends even if nothing else would come of it.

"You know what will happen if Caspian finds you," she said softly. "And still you want to go back? He's going to kill us both." Cor stared at Aravis long and hard, the visual equivalent of a sigh, before he spoke.

"I'm trying to fix something," he said, looking away from Aravis, not wanting her to see what emotion was rolling around in his thoughts. "If he kills me then…at least I will have tried to save my country. Both my countries." This is only a partial reason, Aravis knows. It is the reason that looks good on the surface, the one thing that brave men say before battle. But this is not all of why Cor suddenly wants to face what could only be termed as the cold hand of his fate. Once she could have asked him what the _real_ reason was behind all this talk. These days, however, talking with or was like looking for something in the dark. Aravis was always feeling her way through the unknown bits of Cor, occasionally alighting on something real and solid; but more often touching empty space—a pretense of solidness and depth.

"Quite a noble purpose," she said, uncharacteristically close-lipped; matching his comments which did not tell anything. And then she remembered that as his _friend_ she was not entitled to everything anyway.

"Are you seriously annoyed that I'm doing the right thing?" Cor said, now facing her full on eyes blazing with exasperation and ire. "I'm trying to do the best I can to save Archenland. I'm surprised that you are being a bigger help."  
"Fine," said Aravis, in an angry tone all her own. "Let's hear these plans then. While on the day of your little battle, while you are off playing the hero and defeating the villains, where am I?" Cor broke out of his anger, his mouth opened in a helpless retort that had not come out quite yet. He closed his mouth and his eyes, breathing in and out. Then he opened them, earnestly looking at Aravis.

"You're wherever you want to be. You know you can come and go as you please," his angry tone deflated into the serious discussion of battle plans.

"Just admit it," Aravis said spitefully, not letting go of her raw, burning, healthy anger. For with it she was strong. "You don't care where I am. You couldn't care about me at all."  
"That's not it," Cor said. "I think of you very highly, you know that—."  
"I know, I know," she said letting the words spill out, letting the consequences fall where they may. "I'm a good _friend_. Reliable and faithful, like your dog." Part of Cor's mouth twisted up at her response. He looked down as though something she had said was funny.

"You're wrong," Cor looked at Aravis, as if he was trying to memorize her face. Aravis was shocked at the intimacy of this one look. She didn't want to give him that pleasure, not right now, not when he wouldn't define _what_ exactly they meant to each other.

"Or are you being noble?" Aravis smirked, almost shocking herself with the amount of pained sarcasm in her tone. "Are you trying to save me from yourself? Haven't you heard the millions of stories of star crossed lovers, Cor? That is complete and total bull-." Her words were cut off as Cor pressed his lips to hers. For that one moment Aravis was stunned. It felt like all the nerves in her body were suddenly alive. Cor stepped back, breaking the contact.

"I didn't want to lose you," he said. "It's stupid and cliché, but I thought that if we were only friends then whatever happened—to me, to you—it would be easier." Aravis's mouth moved soundlessly as her mind tried fruitlessly to grasp on words. What had happened to the awful scenario she had played out in her head of being let down not-so-easily?

"I get that," said Aravis, her anger beaten into submission by surprise. "But that was a really dumb move you pulled. I thought it was back to square one with us. And what are we going to do tomorrow? I know you have to be brave and all, but…" Aravis trailed off not wanting to voice her doubts.

"Somehow, insanely enough, I think that things are going to be okay. Whatever happens; we'll be prepared. Or ready enough in any case." Aravis let gratitude wash over her in a wave of warmth. She knew Cor was just saying that to wash away his own doubts and her misgivings, that he didn't mean it. Aravis tilted her head up to kiss him on the forehead.

"At least something is right," she said her voice hushed from their nearness. Cor stayed close for a moment before taking a slight step back and becoming serious again.

"And if the Telamarines are dissatisfied with Caspian we are giving them the perfect chance to fight back, to distance themselves from a sadistic ruler."

"A double hit," said Aravis smiling slyly at Cor. She knew they had very little chance of their plan—if it even existed yet; she wasn't quite sure—working. They had even less chance of making it out alive. But it was nice to pretend, for a small space of time, that everything was okay. She had always known war was complicated, and then later on that it was more complex than the stories could ever begin to describe. Somehow, though the war and all the weight it held was put on hold. It was the eye of the storm, a period of calm before things truly began to take shape and actions led to sharp, irrevocable consequences. But this—there would always be this moment, this togetherness, the closeness of her and Cor. This was a new memory, as half-tangible and incandescent as a falling star caught in her palm. It was the sort of moment that she would keep in a box locked away in the hidden corners of her mind, taking it out to polish once and awhile and admire its far-away shimmer.

"We'll be ready," he echoed, this time with an almost sleepy calm.

_And so will they_, thought Aravis, but she didn't voice this, only smiled as if she took him for at his words, letting his relaxed tone lull her into a small sense of complacency.

**A/N #2: **I KNOW it's a shut-up kiss, but it just seemed to fit there. Plus they DO have a sort-of love-hate-ish relationship if you think about it, but that's probably just my take on it.


End file.
